


Perils of the Fade Bound

by StellaDraco



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Abusive Parents, Abusive Relationships, Assumptions, Bad Decisions, Distrust, Distrust of Magic, Dragons, Drinking, Enemies to Lovers, Fatherhood, Forgiveness, Hermaphrodites, Inquisitor can't handle responsability, Lots of falling and injuries, Love, Love Triangles, Love/Hate, M/M, Mages, Magic, Old Gods, Other, Redemption, Secrets, Telepathy, Tevinter, Tevinter Imperium, The Fade, Trauma, freaking out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-13
Updated: 2015-06-26
Packaged: 2018-03-30 10:07:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 37
Words: 106,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3932749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StellaDraco/pseuds/StellaDraco
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>First try at a DAI fan fic, so be warned that I might not completely grasp some of the characters yet, I'm hoping to work out how to write everyone in this and then move on to my second idea after I finish this story.<br/>An eccentric traveler assumed to be a qunari warrior rescues the Herald after the destruction of Haven and winds up tagging along with the Inquisition.  The newly appointed Inquisitor had a lot on his plate already, between his strong distrust of the mages that now seem to be everywhere, fighting a magister from the dawn of time, having to deal with this odd spirit boy, Cole, and now struggling to figure out just what the strange qunari is really after.  To top it all off, the Inquisitor finds himself attracted to four different men, the first of whom isn't interested, the second seems to hate him, the third doesn't seem like the sort he really wants a relationship with, and the fourth...well, the fourth is an odd one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Crossing Paths in the Frostbacks

Battered by the battle, exhausted, and dressed in the dented remains of my armor, the bitter mountain wind seemed to cut straight through me. Every breath was like drowning in ice. I’d never been the most comfortable with cold, but this went way beyond chilly toes. The unchanging gray of the snow and wind seemed to blot out the world, and maybe it did. Maybe I was already dead and this was the Fade, or the afterlife, or whatever happened after death.

But if I wasn’t dead already, I knew that I would die if I didn’t find shelter soon. The cold ate away at what little energy I had. Once my legs went numb, every step felt like I was dragging chains through the snow. Sleep stalked me like a hungry wolf and with the howling wind I wouldn’t have been surprised if some of those were actually on my trail. I had tracked what little evidence I could find of the Inquisition for days now and although I found steadily more, I didn’t really expect that I would ever reach them.

I would die in the mountains, frozen, starving, half broken by the battle and the fall into the mine. The odds had been against me from the start, but I’d always scraped by. Now the Maker was just taunting me.

The snow slipped beneath my boots, sliding back down the hill and I stumbled, dropping to my knees. Maybe it would be better if I just gave up. At this point it was only my stubbornness that kept me going. I could feel my body failing, but I was too afraid to just lie down and let death overtake me, and I would never allow myself to give up like that in any matter. I guess that stupid impulse finally came in handy. It usually just meant that I went broke before I stopped playing Wicked Grace.

I knelt, staring at the shadows in the swirling snow and debating the merit of death.

The snow shifted, parting in what I first mistook for a canyon but soon identified as a towering figure. It loomed above and ahead, a vast solid shadow in the frigid gray, almost still and resolute as the mountains themselves. In the dim evening light, I glimpsed the shine of curious eyes before my vision blurred to black.

* * *  


Finding the horde of refugees who had already fled into the mountains could hardly have been simpler for me. I had only been here for a few months, but the mountains had not changed. I felt as at home among their frigid peaks as I had all those years ago. I could still track game through the blinding mist, recognize the deep emotion in the howls of wolves nearly drown-out by the wind, and feel where the snow had been disturbed just by walking over it. Besides, I could smell the fires of their camps, even from this distance.

I had watched them approach, drawn by the army and the battle even more than by the rift in the sky. I had come to the mountains for that, but found myself unable to approach and only once it was closed had I ventured within sight of the community. Haven. I had been here once before, many years ago, before I’d gone North again. 

Those had been dark times as well, possibly just as dark. There seemed to be a lot of dark times recently.

When the army of mages had approached I had watched the battle from the same distance, noting what I could, and I hadn’t emerged when the refugees fled the destruction or brought the mountainsides down to cover their escape. It was a clever tactic, I supposed. Wars were not my concern, they never had been. I saw too much strife to add to it on either side. That was not my place in this world.

I never expected the man in the snow to change that.

Initially, the green mark caught my attention. Although I had never seen its like, the magical aura seemed somehow...familiar. Curiosity drove me to approach this man who held something that felt both ancient and new. I hadn’t considered whether or not I wanted the man to see me or even if I cared. Had I wanted to, I could have hidden myself, let myself fade from his vision, but I hesitated and before I could do that, he saw me.

His eyes were purple.

I suppose it shouldn’t have gotten to me so deeply that our eyes were the same color, but it did. They weren’t even the same shade, really: his were a dark purple, almost black near the edges, but paling to lavender and bright yellow around his pupils while mine transitioned from a blazing crimson through violet to a deep midnight blue. Mine also changed hue by my mood, which I doubted his could manage.

Or maybe it wasn’t his eyes at all. The stranger with the magic on his hand was decently tall, muscular, young by my standards, but certainly no teenager. Wearing dented armor, he was broken and bloody, his long, dark brown hair matted on one side. He had the stubble of a man who rarely bothered with his appearance, but also faint traces of eyeliner around his large and beautiful eyes. I had rarely seen any man who struck me as so innately charming. It didn’t help that I had a weakness for long-haired men.

With my strength, he wasn’t difficult to carry through the snow.

* * *  


I was the first to spot the man who had rescued the Herald.

Honestly, after Haven, I had never expected to find the herald’s body, it didn’t even occur to me to think that Bryce might be alive when I recognized the body hanging in the stranger’s arms. Josephine was the one who dared to hope. She rushed forward and Cassandra, Leliana, and I followed after her. I must admit that my focus was mainly to defend the diplomat if this was some sick trap, I guess my memories from the Ferelden Circle Tower still effected my judgment more than I might like, but they’d made me cautious in all things.

Even from a distance we knew the stranger was not human. A shapeless mass of furs clothed his towering form, but a shadowed hollow, the only opening in the vast and layered garment, suggested the location of his face. The coat was mostly bear fur, as I noticed when we got closer. It formed a hood that rose like a small tent, apparently covering horns, although I didn’t fail to notice that the same odd mass could easily conceal a great axe as well. The garment wasn’t sewn, at least not from what I could tell, it looked as if a dozen bear hides had simply been cut and tied to cover the man from head to toe. Beneath that mess of pelts, all I could really determine was that he stood about my height and had horns, but he seemed more powerfully built than most. I guessed that he must be some kind of warrior, probably with an axe hidden in that hairy mess because a man would be a fool to wander the Frostback Mountains unarmed.

When we approached, he said nothing, simply stretching his arms forward to hold out Bryce as if the Herald were hunted game. I wasn’t oblivious to the strength he had to have to hold the Herald— who was not a small man, by any means— on the palms of his hands with his arms stretched out towards us as they were. Josephine started to say something but it died in her throat as she saw the blood on Bryce’s hair. Her face fell and she and Leliana lowered Bryce to the snow with the wordless help of the odd qunari.

Maybe I was paranoid, but I’d expected an attack when they did that and I could tell Cassandra had thought the same. When one didn’t come, we let our attention turn to Bryce.

“He is alive,” explained the qunari with an accent I mistook for Antivan. Josephine’s gasp as he spoke announced the same.

“We need to get him to a healer, Cullen, h—”

The big qunari had Bryce back in his arms before I could move. He looked at Josephine, who had already begun to point towards the healer in her frantic request to me. Not even taking the time to nod, the qunari set off for the camp, his almost lumbering gate belaying a limp exaggerated by his attempt at haste.

For a dumbfounded moment, we stood blankly, watching him, three of us realizing that the Herald still lived and one coming to terms with how injured he appeared.

I was the first to break the silence.

“Why did this qunari decide to help him? What was he even doing all the way out here?”

“Maybe he is devout.” Josephine theorized, “He might have traveled to Haven as a pilgrim and watched the destruction from somewhere nearby.” Her tone conveyed both hope and doubt. It was highly unlikely.

“More likely he has some reason to avoid society.” My thoughts were focused on him being a criminal when I said that, some murderer or robber, but Cassandra put forth an alternative reason.

“He could be an apostate who came here to avoid templars.”

“Then he came to the wrong place. We have more templars than we can readily supply.”

Leliana spoke softly, putting forth by far the most likely theory yet. “He may not know that. I would agree that he most likely has reason to avoid society, though he may be a criminal rather than an apostate. The only fact we can be certain of is that no enemy of the Inquisition would have saved the Herald of Andraste.”

* * *  


They called him the Herald. The people thanked me, some treated me like a hero for bringing him back. I didn’t know what to say, so I nodded. I slunk away as soon as I could, using a bit of magic to be less noticeable, but I didn’t need very much. With the Herald returned, the focus soon turned to him, and then to discussion of him, and then to the future. The people who had met me at the edge of camp, who had approached and recognized him argued over the future of the Inquisition, and I was forgotten.

I waited at the edge of the camp, leaning against the rock of a small cliff. The snow soaked the pelts I wore, as usual, and the chill of the Frostbacks permeated my body. I preferred the cold to the heat, but neither were pleasant and when I felt myself starting to shiver I pressed myself into the rock and curled my limbs around me. The gentle snowfall soon left me concealed as a mound of white over black, another boulder on the ancient peaks, marked only by the heat of my breath and the pale clouds it produced.

The Inquisition. I had heard little of this new one and even less of the old. I have never involved myself in the Andrastian faith, in either division of it. I avoided most religion on principle, the chantry was no different. Religion often muddied the facts when it wasn’t preaching as truth what could never be known. I didn’t know if there was a Maker, didn’t believe that was something that any mortal or spirit could ever know.

But my religious philosophy was hardly relevant right now, my main concern was the nagging feeling that I was getting irrevocably involved in something big. I should never have approached him. I had sworn to myself that I wouldn’t interfere again; I’d already done too much, changed too many fates, ended too many lives, caused myself too much pain. I couldn’t do that again.

There was a boy beside me. I hadn’t noticed him; a rare occurrence, given that I was usually aware of everyone within fifty feet of me if not three hundred. And he was aware of me as well, another oddity. Something about him seemed strange even beyond that.

“You didn’t want to let him die.”

I raised my head to look at him directly, my horns pulling my hood back enough to reveal my face. A tangle of my hair tumbled free, trailing into the snow on my chest, a long and black mess both filthy and sopping. The boy was young, twenty at the oldest, with an odd sort of face and pale hair. He wore a wide-brimmed hat.

“You don’t want to let them die, you don’t like it, but you know it has to happen sometimes, so you try to stay away.”

My eyes narrowed but I couldn’t be sure if I was upset with him, annoyed that this boy openly spoke my secrets, or if I found his eccentricity charming, like some foggy mirror of my own strangeness. “Who are you?”

He hesitated. “Cole. ...but you meant what, didn’t you? I don’t know.”

I snorted, the heat of my breath rising in a mix of smoke and steam. “Another thing we have in common.”

I fell silent. The cold air burned my nose when I drew it in, but a scent here seemed familiar. It reminded me of the sea, and that of home, but somehow I didn’t think that was a true connection. The sea smelled of home and this smell brought to mind the sea, but that was coincidence. A different sea. And the smell here was not salt or even fish, just...friend.

Yes. Friend. Someone I knew or had known. Someone who somehow made me think of crashing waves and...and sorrow.

“You met him on a ship. You like ships because they make you think of home. You had one once, a little one and you’d set it on the water sometimes and let it float, but you were always afraid that it would float away.”

I glanced around but no one seemed to be in earshot. That was probably for the best.

“Boats make you happy. They make you feel like you could go anywhere even if sometimes being on them makes you sick, but mostly they make you think of home and home is happy.” He paused and added, “But boats make you sad as well. Boats—”

“Cole.”

“...I want to help, but—”

“Cole, you can’t help. Not with this. Please don’t bring it up again.”

He hesitated. “Alright.”

He started to leave and it occurred to me that he might know my other names, if he could so clearly see into my mind. “Call me Qyvetiq.”

Cole turned back in confusion, “But your real name is—”

“I would prefer the name Qyvetiq. It is tied to less unpleasant memories.”

Cole nodded a bit reluctantly but left. He didn’t understand the need for deception, just like he didn’t understand why he couldn’t help me. I already had the feeling that his innocent desire to help was going to get me into trouble and as it turned out, I had never been more right.

I rested briefly once Cole was gone, sleeping as much as I could while standing just in case they packed up camp in the morning. Sleep never came easily to me, less so when my body burned with the cold and I had to fight myself to stay upright while I slept. I managed about two, maybe three hours of uneasy, awkward slumber before I gave up.

It was still night when I woke, and the camp was nearly silent. The eastern horizon had the slightest tinge of blue, but dawn was a long way off. Most of the refugees had retreated to tents or huddled together to sleep, and with them dormant I felt comfortable enough to walk among them. I still sensed someone I knew, or rather someone I knew as a friend. I recognized another among their number, a woman who had at least two violently different selves, both of which I hated. She hadn’t done enough to me to make me be open about that loathing, so for all I knew she might well think me a friend if she ever saw the face beneath my hood or watched me fight. I did not intend to let that happen.

I wanted to avoid her, and if I had not recognized the scent of a friend I would already have left, although she was only part of my reason for wanting to leave. I still hadn’t decided that I would join this cause, only that I would stay long enough to figure out just what friend of mine was here, and possibly longer if the so-called Herald was as attractive in personality as he was in body.

I don’t know if my thoughts of the Herald brought me to him or if somehow I subconsciously followed the scent to its source, but I soon found myself standing between two medical tents. The Herald lay on a cot among the injured to my left, still out cold, but now bandaged and less bloody. I had known from the start that he would live, his injuries looked worse than they actually were and the strength I could sense from him suggested more vitality than any dying man could possess. A chantry woman sat beside him. I knew she was awake as I approached, but had hoped that she would not notice me. That hope proved false.

I could have scarcely imagined a more compassionate motherly stare had I expected to find my mother sitting beside the man I had rescued. Then again, that was assuming that my mother had never really known me. “Thank you. You saved his life, and brought hope to us all.”

“...`hope to us all’ might be a bit much...”

“The Maker sent you, whether or not you believe it. The Herald can stop this...chaos, and it is thanks to you that he still lives. You have, quite literally, kept our hope alive, and we are all grateful for that.”

“Eeeah...just don’t make a shrine to me.” I didn’t look back to see if she thought I was joking or not, I just turned to the tent to my right and stepped awkwardly under the awning.

He was asleep. He sat slumped in a chair beside a cot that bore a covered corpse. No one he knew well, at least. He didn’t need any more suffering after everything he’d been through lately. Not that most people had thing better around here, surrounded by refugees who’d narrowly escaped the wrath of a magister, mages, and what had appeared to be an archdemon. I could see the shadows below his eyes, the way his handsome face settled with no hint of a smile while he slept. His black hair bore traces of blood and dirt and it stuck out in places as if he hadn’t brushed it in a while. His clothes were creased and I could see a few lines where the material had left impressions in his skin. He wasn’t dressed for Ferelden, let alone the Frostbacks; his skin bristled with goosebumps and shivers stirred his sleeping form as I watched him. I could smell sweat on him and a subtle air I’d learned signaled exhaustion.

I couldn’t help but smile. I guess he’d managed to reach the Inquisition after all. I hadn’t dared to hope I might see him again; too many people I met vanished or died before our paths next crossed. I wished that fate on no one, but least of all this man. He had, like the Herald, captivated me upon our meeting. Far too many people did that to me. It really wasn’t healthy how often that happened.

He must have run to warn them, I supposed, considering he had mentioned something about helping the rebel mages. I didn’t want to think about how close he’d probably come to death; he was here now, exhausted and freezing, but he was here. He needed sleep even more than I did, and I wasn’t sure I could wake him if I had tried. If I hadn’t felt the need to hide certain less-popular aspects of my body, I’d have given him all of my coats. As it was, I shrugged off the outer layers and draped them over him. The pelts weren’t the cleanest and ragged bear hide patched together with improvised twine and sew in my own particularly uneven stitching hardly made a good fashion statement, but they were warm. I hoped he’d appreciate the warmth.

I had no idea what he thought of me now because I couldn’t be sure if we’d parted on good or bad terms. He’d been so drunk that he probably didn’t remember. He might have thought I was drunk as well, but I was only tipsy. I’m not sure alcohol really effected me the same way as most people.

Best case scenario, he recalled nothing of that last night. Best case, he recalled only our friendship and then a lot of drinking. Worst case, he remembered everything, and probably held a grudge against me for the end of it.

He slept a little more peacefully once I had my coats over him. He wasn’t used to the cold. It seemed somehow...adorable to me. He set off to help the Inquisition, adamant as any, facing grave odds, and even the climate itself seemed to thwart him. He had no army, no slaves, not even family from what he’d told me. Even sleeping, the refugees around him all kept their distance, the Sister across the way watched me and him as if I were feeding a rabid dog; these people reviled him despite the fact that all of them were now in much the same situation. His choice seemed almost naive. This young man treks off into the wilds and wars utterly alone, practically powerless compared to the armies he faces, and here I am passively observing by choice while I could easily change it all. Yes, the Herald was doing the same thing as my friend, but for all I knew that man had chosen to raise an army, and whether by lies or by luck they thought him holy and followed him. It seemed more marvelous when a man fought those odds nearly alone. I had to trust that my choice was right in my case, but neutrality toed a fine line and this defiant decision to stand against a seemingly unstoppable foe had always impressed me.

Yet another weakness I wished I didn’t have.

While he slept, I could not know how much he remembered. I could only speculate about his opinion of me. If he did not remember, or if he forgave me...

I could not stay with him the way I wanted to any more than I could leave him to die. I had decided now that I would stay with the Inquisition as long as he was in danger. I’d lost too many people because I didn’t stick around to protect them and I would not let that happen again. But I couldn’t let myself get close to him even if he didn’t remember, even if he forgave me. More likely, he didn’t forgive me, more likely he never wanted to see me again and if he did... Well, he might yell or he might punch me, in either case I deserved it more than he knew. More than he would ever know.

I don’t know if I could deal with that, now that I thought about it. I had to protect him, I couldn’t just leave...but I don’t know if I could look him in the eye if he remembered and held a grudge. I couldn’t deal with that.

Dorian Pavus stirred a little beneath my coats, rolling over as much as he could in the chair. For a moment, I’d thought he might wake up and I’d felt my breath catch in my throat like I’d stumbled on the edge of a cliff. I nearly ran. Maybe it was better if I just watched from a distance. I slunk away. I didn’t have the heart to take my coats back.

* * *  


When I woke up, everything hurt. It was like the time I’d gotten drunk between rounds of the grand tourney; my head was pounding and I felt like I’d been trampled by a cavalry. At least I was on something comfortable. I could hear arguing. Cullen, and Leliana, and Josephine, and maybe Cassandra. Saying we need a leader. Yeah. We need one alright. Wish someone would volunteer. Not that anyone was likely. Couldn’t Cullen..? No, he had the army. And he might not be the best leader anyway. Leliana...had her spies. She would never take the job, neither would Josephine. Cassandra could. Cassandra should. This should never fall to me, none of this should have ever been my choice. I was the third son, if my parents had their way I’d already be a templar, off keeping mages in line or trying to, not running around making decisions that changed the fate of the whole of Thedas, if not the world. I wasn’t meant for this. I should be following orders, not giving them. I didn’t want this. I had never wanted this, not the mark, not the army, not the...devotion, none of it! Everyone looking to me, everyone counting on me, everyone just waiting for me to let them down whenever this went bad. Who even knew if it was possible to defeat Corypheus at all?

Waking up hurt like hell and I woke to a slew of religious prattle that was basically my worst nightmare. Then the whole camp started singing. I was glad they still had hope, I guess, but I didn’t need it resting on my shoulders. I went off by myself because I needed some air. That was when the elven apostate approached me. I still felt like crap and now everyone seemed to be making me out to be some kind of saint, but no, this was a great time to have a talk with the mage who always seemed to be looking down on me because I didn’t instantly understand the kind of ludicrous Fade-babble he always spouted. What a perfect way to finish out the night.

It was better than I’d expected. He went off about elves, of course, and there was some talk of that orb Corypheus had, but then he got to practical matters. There was a fortress in the mountains, a place we could stay. At least then I wouldn’t be cold and damp as well as saddled with the fate of the world. It was the little things.

I didn’t really know how I’d gotten back here, come to think of it, and once I got the damn elf off my back, I went to ask about that. Maybe it was the fact that he was recognizable from a distance, maybe it was because he was the first person I saw, or maybe it was just because I’d had a bit of a crush on him after we first met, whatever the reason, I ended up going to Cullen for that.

“I’m more interested in how you survived Haven.” My face fell a bit when he said that. I guess it had been too much to expect a straight answer after everything that had happened. Cullen must have recognized my disappointment, because he amended, “I only know what I saw: you were brought here by a qunari. He wore so much bear skin that I never saw his face and he hardly said anything. He seemed...odd.”

I thought for a moment. I did remember...something. A figure. Like a piece of midnight cut from the snow.

Cullen seemed to feel bad that he didn’t have more information for me, “I think he’s still somewhere around the camp...”

Likewise, I knew that he still wanted to know how I’d survived, not that I really understood it as more than dumb luck. “I fired the trebuchet and dove into a mine. I guess everything collapsed, I somehow found my way out of the mine and wandered after what traces I could find of the Inquisition. I...wasn’t doing well. I mean, out in the snow and everything, that’s not really surprising. I guess I passed out. I think I saw something just before that, a man, I’m guessing it was this qunari?”

Cullen shrugged. “Probably. He hasn’t even told us his name. I...I wouldn’t trust him. He must be willing to help us, but...he looks like a hermit. Maybe an apostate. We think he has reason to avoid...society.”

I nodded. “That doesn’t bode well. ...but he did save my life. I owe him thanks.”

“Be careful.”

“I plan to be.”

The qunari was surprisingly hard to find. Stubbornness had always been my strongest quality and exhausted as I was, I wandered the camp for over an hour before I noticed the qunari leaning against the cliff face. From Cullen’s description, I had expected him to be more bundled up, but he wasn’t.

Now that I could see him clearly, he wasn’t as intimidating as he had seemed during our brief first meeting. This was no towering beast of the mountains, he wasn’t even all that tall, his horns were a good bit of his height and his heavy coat made him look more powerfully built than he was. He wasn’t lean, but he wasn’t built like Bull, by any means. Not to say he didn’t look...good. He was handsome. From what I could tell despite the hideous coat, he was muscular, with broad shoulders and a generally well-proportioned body. He had something on his back, hidden beneath the coat’s shapeless mounds of fur. It rose up behind his head, framed by a set of enormous, ebony horns. Bull’s horns had an uneven surface, the few other qunari I’d seen had ridges, but this man had two very long, subtly curved horns so smooth that they had an almost metallic gleam. I didn’t fail to notice the lethal glint of their tips. He could have gutted a dragon with those horns. Beneath the horns was a face as handsome as his body. He had the kind of bone structure that just looked regal, like the man was some kind of prince or king even though he was probably just a criminal. His skin was slightly dark, a few shades lighter than Dorian’s and his hair looked like obsidian. Dirty obsidian that hadn’t actually been cut into any shape: he had quite an abundance of it and it formed a great mound on his head, a mass not unlike the haphazard pelts of his coat. It tangled around his horns like vines in a jungle and great greasy curtains of it veiled much of his face. His eyes looked nearly blue.

The big qunari looked up as I approached. He’d been staring up at the stars, presumably lost in thought.

“I’m told you rescued me. Thanks for that.”

For a long moment, he gave me an unreadable stare and then the slightest smile quirked his lips. “I’m glad you survived.”

He looked back at the sky and I followed his gaze. I guess it was just that he was the only one here who didn’t seem to treat me like some kind of savior, but I found that I wanted to keep talking to him. I didn’t trust him, not by any means, and part of me half expected him to jab a knife in my back at any moment, but that was no different from the way I felt around mages, and Maker knows I’d been dealing with them almost constantly of late.

“You can see the stars really clearly out here in the mountains.”

He nodded. It made me uncomfortable to see those deadly horns gleaming as he moved, but he didn’t seem to notice. “It’s the altitude, being so high up here...I guess they’re closer. I’ve missed them.”

I frowned at him. “You’ve missed the stars? How exactly can you miss the stars? They’re kind of always up there...”

“I...um... Nevermind. Just...musing.” I stared. Well, Cullen certainly hadn’t exaggerated about him being odd. “I guess I just meant that I missed seeing them this clearly. I’ve been in the lowlands for a while, you see, and not often in places where the skies are clear.”

“The lowlands? In Qunari lands?” I knew hardly anything about the race or culture; I was asking, not suggesting that he was lying.

He gave me an odd look. “...oh. Right. The horns.” He gestured vaguely at his head, adding to my confusion. “No. The Storm Coast. And further north.”

“...so the Free Marches? You’re Tal-Vashoth?”

He gave the same vague gesture. “Not the Free Marches.”

I waited for him to elaborate and quickly realized that he wasn’t going to. Alright, maybe this guy was even more frustrating than mages. “Fine. I did come here to thank you and you did save my life, so...I’m Bryce.” I held out my hand and he shook it. He wore gloves and kept his hands in his massive sleeves, so I just got the sense of a handshake as a lass of leather and fur engulfed my arm for a few seconds.

“Qyvetiq.”

“What?”

“Qyvetiq. Call me Qy.”

“Kai. Okay, I can remember that.” Yup, this guy was definitely more annoying than the mages. Just my luck. “Good night, Kai.”

He nodded vaguely and went back to watching the sky.


	2. Conflicting Desires

There was an elf among the Inquisition. I recognized him. My memory had never been great, but he seemed to recognize me as well. He cast subtle glances at me while I shadowed the group. I kept to the edges and those few who noticed me left me alone. The elf didn’t approach me either, and I couldn’t tell if his scrutinization was driven by hate or curiosity. I couldn’t be sure how well he knew me.

  
The elf guided us to a fortress in the mountains and along the way I caught wind that his name was Solas. The name wasn’t familiar. I suppose I wasn’t the only one making up names as I went along. The fortress seemed familiar. I had been here at some point, although I couldn’t recall exactly when. Most of my life ended up feeling like a dream; I hardly remembered what I ate for breakfast, let alone where I’d been long ago. I remembered the people I cared about and hardly anything else.

  
I didn’t approach anyone I recognized among the group or the Herald, who proved to be a far more conflicted man than I had expected. Technically, I could read minds. If I wanted to, I could have delved into each of their minds, the Herald’s to get to know him, the elf’s to see how he knew me, Dorian’s to see what he remembered, it was a matter of honor that I did not. I was not always an honorable man, but I had started making some effort in that direction. It was a very recent change. I might still use questionable methods in some things, but I wasn’t going to invade people’s minds unless things got really dire.

  
I resorted to more mundane methods of answering these questions. As I accompanied the horde of refugees and templars and assorted agents, I watched the people who had struck my fancy. Bryce and the elf cast me glances now and then, but neither approached me, the ex-Chantry Sister didn’t seem to notice me, and Dorian hadn’t even caught sight of me by the time we reached the fortress called Skyhold. He’d kept my coats. I hadn’t worn them when we’d parted ways, so I doubt he realized they were mine. He probably wasn’t fond of their make-shift appearance, but neither was I. I guess they were warm enough that he chose to bear with them, pun not intended.

  
I didn’t attribute Dorian’s failure to notice me to a lack of attentiveness on his part but rather to my own great skill at going unnoticed, despite my unique appearance, but I suppose I slipped up when my attempt to slip into Skyhold with the refugees coincided with his own entrance. It was a fortress, so I suppose the doorway was about as wide as such a thing could be, but it still left us uncomfortably close when I realized that he was beside me. It wasn’t scent that alerted me this time but something else, possibly the telepathy I was lathe to use on him. The black hairs of the coats I had given him brushed the fur of my own remaining attire and reached towards each other by static charge, as if longing to be reunited. I sympathized.

  
But now was not the time for that. Dorian must have felt the near-contact, because he started to turn. I glimpsed the edge of one eye before I slunk away into the crowd, weaving my magic to fade into the shadows of the doorway. This didn’t leave me invisible, just difficult to spot. The spell let my skin darken almost to black and spread a uniform shadow over my clothes and horns, letting me blend in with the dark stone behind me. Amid the bustling crowd and bright light just beyond the door, I could hardly be seen.

  
Dorian had been talking to someone, a tall Orlesian woman in an impractical white dress. From what I’d gleaned of her personality, I gathered they’d been insulting each other to pass the time. One of the many things that only amused me when he did it. He stopped in the middle of the crowd and glanced around, once again failing to notice me. She looked curious.

  
“My dear, you look positively shocked, I assure you everyone here would happily plunge a dagger into your back, no need to worry about the specifics.”

  
“...I thought I recognized someone...” He shrugged and went back to bickering and I let out the breath I’d been holding. I would probably speak to him again eventually; it didn’t mean that was something I planned to rush into.

  
* * *

  
How had this happened?! First I get saddled with some magic mark and survive the explosion at the conclave, I do what I can to help out because I can seal rifts and because it’s the right thing to do, and the next thing I know I’m stuck leading an organization! I mean, power’s all well and good, I guess, but I don’t need anyone else expecting me to make their lives better. At this point they’ll just be even more people to let down when I can’t live up to their expectations.

  
I didn’t do well under pressure and that was just one of the many reasons that naming me the Inquisitor had been a mistake from the start. I dealt with the shock of that as best as I could (which is to say, poorly) and fled to my quarters as soon as possible. They weren’t much yet, just a cot and a chair, but I didn’t care and Josephine said these were just until better furnishings arrived. She was sweet. I’d thought about striking something up with her just so people wouldn’t suspect...but I liked her too much to lead her on. I was not purely attracted to men, I liked women too, just...not her. Not that way. I hadn’t actually romanced any women yet, I hadn’t found any I was interested in— aside from my older brother’s charming wife, and that was just trouble on many levels. Part of the reason I’d wanted to stay as far away from home as possible. Now crushes seemed to crop up like spring daisies, and all of them were men. The only one that might seem remotely respectable had already told me that he wasn’t interested and that awkwardness between us just made things more difficult. He’d been tolerant, but I didn’t expect that of everyone. I had an inquisition to lead and the last thing I needed was to have everyone thinking I was some abomination because I preferred men to women. Not by a lot, granted, and not everyone would view it quite that harshly, but some would, and I wasn’t sure I could handle that. When I’d told my father, he’d outright punched me and that had come as such a shock that I guess I was just a bit afraid to tell anyone else. It was better that I just didn’t act on it, at least for now. Maybe later, once Corypheus was out of the picture, I could just slip away, settle down somewhere in the country with a nice guy. Hadn’t Hawke just run off with Fenris once everything was over?

  
It took me a while to calm down enough that I could leave, maybe try to get something done, but more likely just drink myself into a stupor; I was good at that. I’d been crying, I guess. I couldn’t remember when that had started, but at least I was alone. It happened sometimes when I got really drunk, too, and that was more embarrassing. At least now I could just wash my face and maybe reapply some eye liner and no one would know. Maker knows I tried to hide it, so there was no way I’d ever wear more than that, but a hint of black around the eyes just looked so...striking. I’d started more subtle with it, but gradually used more. The way I did it now was the way I liked it: dark enough to look good, but nothing too flamboyant. Most people didn’t even seem to notice.

  
It was late when I felt I looked calm enough to go out. When I emerged, Cassandra was waiting for me. She must have been waiting for hours, sitting outside my door.  
“You need to talk with the qunari, the one who rescued you. He seems inclined to stay, but something is not right with him. Be cautious.” I nodded. Yeah, there was that, wasn’t there? I hadn’t really noticed if Kai had followed us, but I guess he must have. Like a stray dog. An unpredictable, incredibly handsome stray dog. Yeah, he really had to go.

  
“Do you know where the qunari might be?”

  
She shrugged. “The kitchen staff are the only ones who see him consistently. He might be down there, otherwise he seems to wander the fortress at random. I’d talk to that Tevinter mage as well. He’s been staying in the library. We need allies, but I wouldn’t trust him.”

  
“Right. I’ll see to them right away.”

  
The Tevinter and the qunari. The odd one, to clarify, although I wasn’t much more comfortable around Bull. Between my attraction to him and the fact that I knew he could kill me by accident, given his strength, speaking to Bull made me uncomfortable. Unless I was drunk. Nothing made me uncomfortable if I was drunk. The odd qunari was worse than Bull, at least I understood Bull’s motivations, and Dorian...

  
Dorian drove me insane in more ways than I could count. I guess I was talking to the qunari first.

  
I found only elves in the kitchens. A serving girl was cutting apples by the door; she nearly dropped her knife when I entered.

  
“Inquisitor! I’m so sorry, I didn’t expect you at this hour, is there anything I can get you? Would you like a pie? They’re right on the—” She pointed to a shelf and started towards it, but tripped and I caught her before she could fall. She was pregnant, that much was obvious once the bulge of her belly was pressed against me. I hadn’t noticed at first because of all the stuff on the table between us and it managed to make me feel even worse for startling her.

  
“Are you alright?” She got back to her feet and brushed her hair out of her eyes. Blonde hair. And she was such a twig of a woman, all spindly limbs and a huge belly. Maker, she reminded me of my sister.

  
“I-I’m sorry, sir. I...I guess I’m just a bit...clumsy right now.” She stammered and avoided my gaze.

  
“It’s fine. I’m not here for food anyway. You should rest. Sit down.” She sat as if I’d shouted at her. It was a suggestion, not an order, I hated how everyone was so on edge around me now. “Look, I’m just trying to find the qunari.”

“The little one?”  
I stared at her blankly and she clarified. “Not the Iron Bull?”  
I nodded.  
“He stopped by just a little while ago. Took an turnip and a big tin tub.”  
“A turnip?”  
“Yeah. He does that a lot, eats weird things. I had a craving for onions and cold tea yesterday and I don’t come close to eating as oddly as he does, and at all hours of the night, too!”  
“So he’s still awake?”  
She nodded. “Probably. He’s usually in here really late; I think he sleeps during the day. I can help you find him, if you want...”  
I shook my head. “You just rest, and walk more carefully.” I started to leave and then paused. “Do you know which door he usually comes through?” She pointed and I thanked her. That was at least a starting point.

  
The door lead me outside to a dark courtyard. It had to be after midnight; everyone but the kitchen staff were asleep. Even Cullen’s office was dark at this hour; I couldn’t guess where the qunari had gone based off candlelight. I guess I’d have to try a more systematic approach.

  
I went tower by tower along the parapets. Mostly, I found spiders and broken beams. I crossed paths with an owl resting in one of the cobwebbed corners, but I saw no sign of the qunari for a while. I heard water as I opened the door of the last ruined tower and a smarter man would have known to stop.

  
Like the idiot I am, the sound made me curious, so I flung open the door. Kai had set up something between a camp and a bedroom in that tower. He had a pile of furs as a bed in one corner, a misshapen sack for his few possessions, and a leather-bound book. He also had a tin tub about three feet deep and wide enough to stand in. He was using it to bathe when I entered.

  
With his clothes flung on the flagstone floor, it was easy to see what he’d had on his back. He had wings. These weren’t little vestigial nubs either, if he stretched them out they would have spanned at least twenty feet, tip to tip. I’d like to have said they were hideous, but that wasn’t the truth. Each wing was ten feet of glittering iridescent skin suspended from long and delicate bones that looked as fragile as glass. Four fingers supported the majority of the membrane, but four more delicate spines extended from his lower back, adding support to the skin of the wing and trailing off of it in four gleaming golden flags. The wings themselves ranged from black, through red and purple to blue. The backs were much darker, almost black in the moonlight. Kai had a tail too, long and thick, covered in dark scales and tipped with an arrow-head, but I hardly noticed it because he was facing me.

  
His hair was no longer filthy; now it was clean and he’d cut it. It had become an ebony curtain framing his handsome face and trailing down his back, as shiny as polished steel. His eyes practically glowed in the dim light. Without his hideous clothes, I could see his build more clearly. He was breathtaking, every motion rippled a dozen very visible muscles. He’d been washing his upper thigh when I’d walked in on him. I had to suppress a shudder.

  
Kai looked up, noticing me a bit belatedly.

  
“Inquisitor?” His accent was strange, too subtle for me to identify. The man had no modesty, he set the wash-rag in the tub and stood, wings slightly spread, everything right out there on display. I stared at the wall beside me.

  
“Can you...put some clothes on or something?” Something about his appearance bothered me. Beyond my growing attraction to him, I mean.  
Kai obliged, folding his wings around himself, but still leaving more visible than I was comfortable seeing. At this point, I’m not sure I’d be comfortable seeing him fully clothed, because I would know how amazing he looked beneath that. “Is something wrong?” He was grinning. He loved this.

“Andraste’s tits, did you do this on purpose?!”

“I hardly expected you to walk in on me, Bryce, but now that you did...” He started to gesture with a wing and I looked away again.  
“Maker! ...Kai. What brought you here?” He raised an eyebrow. “Not to Skyhold. Why are you still here? Why do you want to help? What can you even do?”  
He shrugged, thankfully keeping those wings wrapped around himself now. “I can do quite a lot. I can fight, for one thing. I’m not here to join the Inquisition. Wars aren’t my thing. But I’ll help if you’d kick me out otherwise.”

His reply managed to shock me out of trying not to look at him. “`Wars aren’t your thing’? Is closing the rifts your thing? Is stopping an insane magister who unleashed the Blight your thing?”

He bobbled his horned head noncommittally. “He may or may not have started the Blights. I try not to take sides.”

“You try not to take sides? Well, you sure as hell took a side when you saved my life! What’s your deal, anyway? You just felt like rescuing a random stranger in the mountains? Why were you even there?!”

“I try to remain neutral whenever possible. It’s a lesson I learned long ago and it still took far too long for me to learn that. It is not my place to change fate.” He stepped out of the tub and paused, staring at the stars before continuing, “I saved you because...I like you. Something about you, out in that blizzard...I don’t know. Maybe it’s just how handsome you are, I’m not sure.”

I hoped he couldn’t see me blush. Handsome? What was his game? Why was he talking like that? Was he just trying to distract me?

“I...” I swallowed and cleared my throat. As weird as Kai was, he was starting to seem like the only person I was attracted to who might actually like me back, and if he was always this elusive keeping things secret shouldn’t be a problem. “Alright. You can stay. But you might have to join me on some outings. How well can you fight?”  
“I’ve slain dragons.”

I stared. He had to be joking. Did he mean alone? No man slew dragons alone... Okay, maybe one winged, horned, mutant qunari could manage it. He was strange enough. He could be some renegade dragon slayer out here for sport. There were dragons in the Frostbacks, right? Heck, hadn’t there been one at the Temple of Sacred Ashes before it was rediscovered?

“I-I’ll let you get back to bathing...” I stepped out and shut the door. Something about him still bothered me and it was driving me nuts. What was it? Normal qunari didn’t have wings, right? Or tails? That was something more like—

And then it struck me. Qunari didn’t have wings or tails. They only had horns. But I knew what did. I’d never seen one, of course, and it seemed odd that one might ever decide to help me selflessly, but I’d seen pictures. The only thing I knew of that had wings, horns, a tail, and a body like that was a desire demon.


	3. Meetings

Scrubbing off six weeks of grime left me feeling wonderful, which was a pretty rare feeling for me. I’d needed that bath and I more than needed to get back to civilization. Maybe I’d made a mistake. Maybe I should never have saved him, never gotten involved in this, but I was here now. I was, essentially, a part of the Inquisition now, and as a result, I had access to all the amenities that provided. I didn’t really care about most of them. I got my own food, for the most part, I had my furs, I had everything I really needed to survive, but the luxury of bathing, at the very least, I appreciated. I tied my hair back, glad it felt soft again rather than stiff and filthy. Washed at long last, I finally smelled like myself again. I’d been so covered in blood, and dirt, and sweat, and probably some residue of sea water and other things I liked more than sea water, but now I was finally clean, I finally smelled like nothing but myself. Well, not for long. I got my clothes back on and fixed my hair. Good, I no longer looked like a wild man. My father would have been proud, if he’d cared. If he’d still been alive. I rummaged through my bag, feeling like there was something I was missing. I shuffled through the contents: a jar of ink, a box of chalks, a pocket knife... Ah. I pulled a tiny crystal jar from the sack. Perfume. It wasn’t like I bathed in the stuff, and I didn’t bother with it unless I had the luxury of bathing, but I liked a little trace of floral scent sometimes. It was more for my own pleasure than anyone else’s, which was part of why I didn’t use it all the time. I dabbed a little on myself. Wild roses this time. I made it myself, which was part of how I always had some even when I was living in the wilds.

Stepping outside, the cold of the mountains struck me again. Even just sheltered by the ruined tower walls, I had felt warmer, outside on the parapets the crisp air seemed to permeate my body, chilling me to the core, despite my fur coats, despite the heat of my wings against my back, despite the magic burning inside me.

The fortress was so silent at night. I heard laughter from the tavern below, but it was quiet, not the ruckus of the day. I suppose most people had gone to bed, or drunk themselves into a stupor by now. Well, I was here now, part of the Inquisition, a comrade of these people whether they liked me or not. And I had spent far too much time on the fringes of society. I had never liked dealing with most people, dealing with crowds in particular, but I had always loved the mechanizations of social interaction. Not the Game, not politics, but friendships, bickering, the subtleties of love and hate— that I adored. And I found it best to interact in order to observe such fine entertainment. The intricacies of human relationships had always been the finest of life’s wonders, the quiet wonders I had always sought to capture in my arts. All of my arts. And if I had to interact in order to observe such wonders, then I would readily do so. After all, it had been so long that I was sure no one here would recognize me as who I really was. In retrospect, that belief may have been a bit foolhardy.

The tavern seemed to be the best place to start. I headed down in the hope of getting to know my new comrades.

* * *

The tavern was pretty busy for the hour. Varric had talked me and the boys into a game of Wicked Grace. It was a friendly game, so bets were low. Varric was winning, but I wasn’t that far behind and the bartender had finally gotten a decent ale, so spirits were high in more ways than one.

Varric was just shuffling the cards to deal the next hand when the strange qunari wandered in. I had thought him a bandit or maybe an apostate, but he approached as if he was almost afraid of us. Maybe he was just a hermit; no bandit would look so awkward. Or maybe he was a fugitive of the Qunari, afraid I’d catch him.  
Varric saw him before I said anything. “Ah, the Herald’s rescuer! Care for a game of Wicked Grace?”

* * *

The other qunari grinned. “Happy to join you.” I’d started thinking of him as the “little” qunari, considering he was pretty much human-sized despite whatever he kept strapped to his back. He had an interesting time of sitting down with that; he walked over to a chair and then stopped for a moment, before awkwardly kneeling on the seat.  
“You know, you could just take it off.” I laughed a little and dealt him in.  
He stared at me quizzically. “`Take it off’?”  
“Yeah, that axe, or sword, or whatever you have on your back. Might make it easier to sit down.”  
He grinned a little and picked up his cards. “I’m afraid I’m rather attached to it.”  
“So what is it? Sword? Ax?” Krem was the one who asked.

* * *

And this was the reason I carried an ax. Well, half the reason. I reached back and pulled the hood of my cloak to the side, revealing one blade of my great axe. Well, I used it as an ax anyway. It could just as easily serve as a different weapon, one I didn’t like to use, especially this far south.  
The mercenaries looked at it in open awe and I frowned. “What? It’s just an ax?” I strained to see if my coat had failed to cover my wings. They must have seen. Something I had done had given away one of my secrets.  
“What metal is that?”  
“Who made it?”  
“Where’d you find it?”

The questions kept coming until one voice cut in above them. It was the qunari beside me. I wasn’t that fond of qunari for a lot of reasons, not the least of which being how drastically their philosophy contradicted my only morals. One of the few things I sought to protect was the freedom of others, especially mages. My home came a close second to freedom, as far as important things went, which was another reason I wasn’t fond of them.

But this particular qunari wasn’t necessarily a paragon of their kind, and he was easy on the eyes, which was another plus. I often wish I wasn’t so easily swayed by appearances, but it had always been a problem for me. It was often the reason I got into so much trouble.

“Looks like dragon bone. A good axe. There’s a story behind it, isn’t there?”  
And of course everyone I was attracted to always focused on me for some reason. Was I that noticeable or was this just a perk of what I was? It drove me crazy.  
I nodded. “It’s called Vesper, and yeah, it is dragon bone. Pelvis of a Northern Ravager, bitch of a fight.”  
“So you made it?” It was the odd human asking. I wanted to address him as a man, but I wasn’t entirely sure, and I knew how annoying it was to be mistaken for the opposite gender. I’d also hoped that no one would read between the lines and figure out that I could smith.  
I suppressed a wince. “Yeah. I’m pretty good with a forge.”  
One of the mercenaries reached up in fascination and held the pelt a little further off the visible blade, not realizing that he was pressing it against my wing rather than the haft of the axe. The blades were stunning: vivid orange dragon bone carefully shaped into the image of stylized dragons. “It looks amazing! You forged this?”  
I nodded a little awkwardly.  
“Vesper. That’s an odd name. Isn’t that what they call a service for the dead? Or the bells the Chantry sometimes rings at night?”  
Another vague nod. “Something like that.”  
“You killed the dragon yourself?”  
“Well, that one I had some help with.”  
“You’ve killed multiple dragons?!” Several of the group looked awed and a few went to get me a drink.  
The one I couldn’t quite identify narrowed his eyes. “Now you’re just shitting us.”  
“No, really.” I ran one gloved hand through my hair, “Look, I really have killed dragons. several of them. It’s basically what I do.” I wanted to just drop the subject, but I hadn’t dealt, so it wasn’t my turn to start the bidding. Besides, I was a bit rusty on the rules of Wicked Grace. Was this even a good hand?  
“You sculpt it to look like dragons because of that, then? It looks rather Tevinter, thought you took it off a dead Vint.”  
The murmurs of appreciation abruptly transitioned to a tense silence. I rested my chin in my palm, covering my lips with my gloved fingers. I stared at them in silence, watching the suspicion dawn on them. The big qunari gave me a careful look and I met his gaze calmly.  
“Are you from Tevinter?”

That same human had asked. In general, he seemed nice, seemed like the kind of person I could be friends with, but at this point I didn’t expect that to happen. This was usually how things got a few seconds before Thedas found itself down one tavern as somebody started a brawl with the wrong person. I didn’t look forward to it, per say. As much as I loved to fight, my current mood was less one of eagerness and mostly just disappointment. I liked the Inquisitor, and I liked Dorian. I would have liked to stay here a while.

That wasn’t to say I wasn’t angry. I knew my eyes had gone red, maybe even maroon or black, but I wasn’t going to act on that anger unless they started it.

* * *

His irises turned deep red and that drew my attention. The whites of his eyes weren’t white either, they’d been black from the start, I just hadn’t noticed somehow. That definitely wasn’t normal. He didn’t answer their question and I was pretty sure we all knew the answer. A qunari from Tevinter, and apparently proud of his homeland, that could be the subject of my next book.

“Hey...why don’t we all just get back to the game? Two silver.”

* * *

Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the hours he kept, maybe it was just the fact that he thought I was a qunari or that we both liked hitting things, but somehow I got along with the Iron Bull despite our rocky first meeting. He didn’t mention my nationality and I didn’t mention his, and somehow that let us drink and chat without conflict. I wouldn’t say we were close— and given his opinion of my homeland and my own adamant nationalism, a relationship beyond friendship was completely out of the question— but we managed to be...comfortable with each other.

Varric, on the other hand, became someone I actively sought out, at least when he wasn’t around too many people. Between Wicked Grace and conversation, I soon spent much of my time hanging around him. I didn’t go for dwarves, luckily, so that wasn’t an issue with him, and he seemed laid-back enough that I opened up a bit more than I probably should have.

“Wait a second, Horns, are you saying you’re a mage as well?”  
I hadn’t actually meant to give that away, but the nickname caught me more off-guard.  
“`Horns’?”  
“Horns. It seemed fitting.”  
“Just because I have them?”  
“Because you have them, because you remind me of an ox, and because you seem to have a dirty mind.”  
“So `Horns’ for `horny.’ And isn’t Bull more like an ox?”  
“Yeah, but you seem more hot-headed.”  
“Really?”  
He raised his hands in mock-surrender, “Hey, just a theory. You have a better nickname?”  
“I was thinking something more like `Shadow,’ but `Horns’ works pretty well. I am hot-headed, it’s taken a lot of practice to control myself as well as I do, and I am horny pretty much all the time. Part of why I write.”  
“You write?”  
“I’m not as well-known as you are.”  
“Well now you’re just flattering me. What do you write?”  
“Smut, mostly. Some romance, some fiction. Pretty niche-market for the most part. Orlais loves most of it, for some reason. I wrote a few satires as well, but nobody seems to realize that.”  
He tilted his head. “What? They don’t sell?”  
“No, they sell like mad, people just seem to think they’re true. I’ve started more rumors than I can count.”

Varric burst out laughing and I chewed my lip. It was late, but we were in the great hall, and I kept thinking I heard the library door. I still hadn’t talked to Dorian, hadn’t even gone near him yet. It had been over a week by now and Bryce had been actively avoiding me. I didn’t much blame him; I wasn’t going out of my way to speak to him either, but that was more because he tended to be surrounded by people. Between talking to Varric and Bull, I had met some others. Most of the scouts and soldiers seemed wary of me, which wasn’t surprising, so I ended up talking to the kind of people who could hold their own alongside the Inquisitor rather than the less-skilled masses. I had a brief encounter with a surly Grey Warden and an even briefer conversation with Cullen the templar, who very nearly recognized me. I’d run into a Seeker who managed to remind me more strongly of my mother than anyone I had ever met— I hadn’t hung around to see if she’d berate me just as harshly for my life choices. There’d also been an elf who’d given me some unintelligible speech about `little people’, a diplomat who’d asked if I was comfortable, and some snide enchantress who’d briefly criticized my fashion sense before I got away. It wasn’t like I wore lumpy furs for the style of it. I’d remembered how I knew the spymaster, a woman I despised who probably felt the same way towards me, and I’d realized that, although I couldn’t recall how I knew him, the elven mage most certainly knew me, and recognized me as more than a qunari. I didn’t want to get anywhere near them, and of course they seemed to live in the same tower as Dorian. Everyone I wanted to avoid in the same place, how convenient. Except that I didn’t really want to avoid Dorian. The more I’d been here, the stronger the urge had become. At first it was just a nagging wish in the back of my mind, a curiosity to see what he remembered, see if we could at least be friends again, but now it was an outright compulsion. I needed to talk to him even more than I wanted to avoid him. I was terrified, but I had to know, had to ask, had to be sure...

“A lot on your mind, Shadow?”  
I looked back at Varric. “Yeah...”  
He chuckled. “Look, what is it? Whenever we talk here, you look like a horse in the Deep Roads.”  
“I’m...I’m distracted.”

* * *

He paused so long that I added, “Well, that much is obvious.”

“....I....I know someone here.” He picked up the bag he always carried and stood. I thought he was going to leave, but then he added, “We were...close.”

“Ah. So your ex is here somewhere.” That answered a lot of questions. And raised a lot more.  
Kai nodded.  
“Probably best to just stay out of her way, then.”  
“His,” Kai clarified. I guess that wasn’t too surprising. The man did wear perfume, after all, and he hadn’t mentioned any women or old girlfriends, not that I ever did either. I would have suspected Tiny, but Bull was the only other person he seemed to spend time with. Dorian seemed pretty unlikely, given that Kai was a qunari, which left Bryce, assuming Curly didn’t have any surprising secrets. Or Hero, for that matter.

Kai had the look of someone with a dilemma. “And I don’t know if that’s the case. I’m...not entirely sure where we left off. We were both pretty drunk, and I’m not entirely sure that he even knows I’m here.”  
“Oh. ...Well, that’s a tough decision, then. Good luck.”

* * *

I nodded and turned to leave, considering the possibilities. Was now even a good time? It was late, but he might still be awake. He might still be reading. I could just walk up the stairs...

I felt the churning of my stomach and the tension in my knees and closed my eyes. I had to calm down, stop worrying about it, organize my thoughts...  
I needed some air. I started to go outside. I probably should have opened my eyes first.

I collided with a small woman, one of Leliana’s spies, from her attire. She’d been talking to a dwarf a short distance behind me but somehow I hadn’t noticed them. It was like what happened with Cole, and it stunned me to have found another person here who could evade my senses, after having found only a handful of people like that in my entire life. The impact knocked her hood back and nearly knocked her over, but I caught her on one arm. She looked up at me as she regained her footing.  
Long, silvery white hair, and angular, almost elvish face, and large, pale eyes tinted with the slightest trace of crimson. That was a face I could never forget. I started to speak her name as that intense gaze met my own.

No. I did not know her. This was a common spy, plain, an elf-blooded agent of the Inquisition and nothing more. Certainly no one important. She was not noteworthy in the least, in fact, as soon as she left my sight, I should forget her.

A blank look came over my face. “I should go...”

* * *

I brushed my hair back and watched him go, pulling my hood back up to hide my face. The dwarf frowned and looked over at me. “...sorry...who are you again?”  
“No one important. Forget about me.” I followed my brother outside, keeping my hood up. He was calling himself Qyvetiq now, wasn’t he? Always did have a flair for the dramatic. Was he trying to compensate for having the most normal name out of all of us, at least in his opinion? Such a fool.

* * *

Outside, I spotted Bryce in the courtyard. He waved me over as a messenger caught up with him. I reached him in time to hear the report, which apparently wasn’t meant for me.

“Sir, people have been finding signs of dragons in the area. Strangest thing is, no one’s seen a dragon, not even a drake, just the dead animals and such.”  
Bryce got distracted. He frowned at the man. “Anything else that could be?”  
“No, definitely a dragon. Unless it’s a hoax. But who would fake dragon signs without faking a dragon? Or even footprints?”  
“No footprints?”  
“A few little ones. Nothing big. Nothing that could have taken down a gurn or great bear.”  
Bryce sighed and shook his head. “Keep me posted, I guess...”  
I walked closer as the messenger left. “You waved?”  
“Yeah. Look, you’re...tough. You can handle dragons, and stuff. I need to head to the Western Approach...soon.” He fell silent and looked me a question.  
“What? You want me to join you?”  
He shrugged. “Well, if that’s alright with you...?”  
It was my turn to shrug. “If you want me along, I’ll join you. When are we setting out?”  
Another roll of the shoulders. “Tomorrow? Maybe the next day? Depends when we have everything packed. It might take a day. That’s a long trip anyway.”  
“So be ready by tomorrow. I might not be the most awake, but I can adjust. That’s a week or so to get there, right?”  
He shrugged yet again. “Maybe? Have you been there before?”  
I nodded vaguely. “I spent some time there once.”  
He chuckled. “Do you ever give a direct answer to anything?”  
“Only when I don’t have something to hide.” I grinned and he returned the gesture in good humor.  
“So never?”  
“More like rarely.” We fell silent for a moment, both staring up at the stars.  
“Kai?”  
“Yes?”  
“Would you do me a favor?” I looked over at him. He had that serious look in his eyes. He was so charming when he got that kind of intensity to him.  
“Anything.”  
I guess my reply caught him off-guard. Suddenly wary, he stared at me. “Don’t talk like that.”  
“Alright.”  
“Could you ask Dorian as well? To come with us to the Western Approach? Assuming he’s not drunk. Or in a bad mood. You know what, just tell me if he’s in a good mood and...and maybe I’ll ask him myself. Hopefully...”  
I resisted the urge to smile. He was so obvious. “Alright.”  
“Good. I’ll...I’ll see you sometime tomorrow.” He headed off to the tavern, probably planning to drink a little before going to bed. The man looked exhausted. He didn’t handle power well.

Not to say he was a bad leader; I’d seen many worse, but he couldn’t take it. He could lead just fine as far as his subjects were concerned, he could probably do anything he put his mind to and change all of Thedas, but that would leave him broken. He couldn’t deal with pressure. I hoped for his sake that the Inquisition wouldn’t last. I didn’t want to see what that kind of constant responsibility could do to him.


	4. The Reunion

I headed to the library after that, finally diving into the issue I’d been avoiding. The place was even more silent than usual. The elf was asleep, stretched out on top of the platform he’d built to paint the walls. He was using an ancient elven technique, one I’d seen many times before but still liked. It took too much time for me to bother with it myself, but the results were quite beautiful. High above, the ravens were roosting and Leliana was hopefully elsewhere. The The staff, agents, and researchers were all gone this late at night, leaving me, for all intents and purposes, alone with Dorian.

I walked up behind him, not realizing how quietly I was moving. I had my hood down at least, so he might recognize me, but the lighting was low. He just had one candle going so he could see to read, I guess he was trying not to wake the elf. Solas, I reminded myself, remembering his name. In the dim light, Dorian faced the candle, which was on a table between him and the window. He had a few books on the table as well, but he wasn’t reading a book right now. He had a creased and slightly yellowed paper, a letter, I suspected.

I couldn’t see his face, but I guessed that he was still reading it. I didn’t want to interrupt him, so I waited there, silently. He just kept holding the letter, rereading it, I assume, he’d been shifting his weight when I walked in, nearly pacing, but now he stood perfectly still. I was about to say his name when I noticed the slight tremor of his arm, the shudder I could hear in his breathing.

He wasn’t quite crying, but he was close to it.

“Are you okay?”  
People told me I had one of those voices, the kind that flowed like fine wine, rumbled like a dragon’s growl, captivated like a well-cut diamond. It cut the silence like the crack of a whip. He jumped visibly and spun to face me, nearly knocking over the candle. “Hello...”  
He hadn’t quite been crying, but his eyes were still wet and he still looked upset even though he tried to hide it. He didn’t recognize me. I could tell that he caught some hint of familiarity in my face, maybe it was my horns, maybe the shine of my eyes, maybe just my hair, but he couldn’t place it. He kept his distance, staring at me, trying to pretend nothing was wrong. He brushed his hair slightly more into place and met my gaze, trying to look confident.  
“Who are you?”  
I stepped forward and he backed up, nearly pressing himself against the wall. He didn’t have his staff right now, but he got one hand up a little defensively and carefully tried to set the letter on the table without letting me out of his sight even for an instant.  
“Dorian, it’s me. Are you alright?”  
“I’m perfectly fine, and that’s not an answer!” I stepped towards him and he finally managed to set the letter down, so he raised both hands. “You stay right there! We’re quite close enough as it is—!”  
He was cut off as I hauled him forward into a hug.

* * *

A hug was about the last thing I had expected.

He was lucky I didn’t set him on fire— I nearly set myself on fire when I bumped the table in my initial attempt to squirm free. His grip was like a steel cage, I shoved against him until my arms ached and he didn’t budge.

When he’d first approached, I’d expected him to draw a dagger, and then I’d thought he was just going to crush me. I mean, a qunari walks in here in the middle of the night, sneaks up behind me, what was I _supposed_ to think? That he’d come here for tea? I’d thought he was here to kill me, and after all this southern hospitality, it wouldn’t have surprised me if someone had hired a qunari assassin.

I very nearly did cast a spell when he advanced, only the vague sense that I knew him from somewhere ever stopped me. The face seemed familiar, but the memory was foggy. Oddly enough, the dim lighting actually helped me finally place the face.

The hug helped too, in more ways than one. Once my arms really started to hurt, after my wrists had left a tangible impression in his chest, I gave up and just stood there. I half expected him to do something— strangle me, snap my neck, maybe something more...inventive— but no, he just moved a little closer and hugged more gently. By this point I stopped fearing for my life and started focusing more on figuring out just who the hell this was. I didn’t exactly have many qunari friends, so it shouldn’t be that hard.

He wasn’t much taller than me, so we were roughly at eye-level with each other, but he’d rested his chin against my shoulder in a way that left his head directly beside my own, so I couldn’t actually look at him to jog my memory. Instead, I thought back to the few seconds prior to this embrace.

I’d seen him before, also in dim lighting, when I’d been about as miserable as humanly possible. The hug helped dredge up the memory from the drunken haze I’d been in pretty much the entire time we’d known each other. I couldn’t remember the context, but we’d definitely been in more-or-less this position sometime before.

* * *

All my power and it still took the better part of my focus to avoid getting a boner right now.

“Kai?”  
“You know any other traveling horned men likely to hug you?”  
I couldn’t tell, but I was pretty sure that got him to smile. “You must be the one who saved Bryce. Did that bastard even thank you?”  
I frowned, loosening my grip enough that, if he wanted to, he could get free. “Bryce seemed nice enough to me. Awkward, but surprisingly friendly, all things considered.”  
Dorian stepped back to put some distance between us and I slid my hands into the completely invisible pockets of my amorphous coat. “He does that sometimes. I guess he just hates mages— and me most of all, apparently. He’s already punched Solas and seems about ready to hit Vivienne too, although, to be fair, she has that effect on everyone.”  
I raised an eyebrow. “He’s punched the elf and lived to tell about it?” I still hadn’t placed how I knew him, but if this `Solas’ fellow could recognize me, he was no ordinary apostate.  
Dorian grinned a little, “Have you met Solas? I don’t think the man had ever acted rashly.”  
“I don’t think Bryce is really as awful as he appears. He’s under a lot of stress.”  
“Ha! Stress? He shouldn’t have started the Inquisition if he couldn’t handle stress!”  
“Exactly. He _shouldn’t_ be leading the Inquisition. I’d be willing to be that’s half the reason he’s so...”  
“Volatile? Bigoted? Plebeian? Contumelious?”  
“I was going to say touchy, but I think you’ve covered all the bases. In my experience, he’s been much more pleasant and he has no reason to suck up to me.”  
Dorian paused, eyeing me. “...he might have reason to suck up to you.”  
“He’d have more reason to suck up to you, if that’s the case.”

We fell silent for a few moments before starting to speak at the same time.  
“How did we leave things exactly?”  
My question died in my throat as he confirmed that he didn’t remember that last night. He’d been drunk through it all, that last night had just been the worst. I think he’d passed out, but he could have just been tired. Given that he hadn’t recognized me more quickly, I also had to wonder how much he remembered any of it. Had he been more drunk than I’d realized for that entire trip?  
I hesitated. “How much do you remember?”  
Dorian grimaced. “Not much,” he admitted.

Temptation got the better of me at that point. Again my weakness for good-looking men led me to break another promise to myself. I looked into his mind. He remembered meeting me on the boat, throwing up over the side until nothing more could come up and then flinching when I’d asked if he was okay. He vaguely remembered drinking with me in that awful, cramped galley over the next days, weeks, however long it had been, but he couldn’t picture my face clearly in those times, just a vague sense of it. High cheekbones, dazzling eyes, all but forgot the horns. He remembered getting especially drunk when we finally made port, partly because he could actually keep the drinks down. Having a meal away from the ship’s cook also helped; spirits were high. He only retained a vague sense of dinner and nothing after that. That was probably for the best.

“Are you okay?” I nodded towards the letter. “It seemed like bad news, and Maker knows you don’t need any more of that.”  
He looked over at the paper. He realized that I’d avoided the question and let it go. He figured he’d been right and something bad had happened, but he thought it was his fault. I wanted to correct him, alleviate that guilt, but telling him what actually happened felt worse, it would probably be more painful for both of us to explain that. I let the subject drop and stopped reading his mind.

“I’ll be fine.” He paused and then explained that. I got the sense that he felt like elaborating out of guilt for what he thought had ended our friendship. I refused to delve into his mind to know exactly what he thought he had done, but it occurred to me that he might think he had made unwelcome advances and driven me away through that. He was half right. He had made advances, but they were far from unwelcome, and it was what had happened after that that had led us to part ways.

“Did I mention Felix?”  
“The name is familiar. You came south to see him? Something his father got involved in that the Inquisition was trying to stop?”  
He laughed grimly. “The Inquisition did nothing to stop him, the Venatori— the cult he was working with— turned against him. They killed him and marched on Haven, and I barely got there alive to warn Bryce.” He paused and I started towards him again. He must have guessed my intention because he held up an arm. “Don’t hug me again, just...”

He hesitated and gave me a long, thoughtful stare. I found myself worrying that he interpreted my almost excessive sympathy as guilt, which it was, to some degree. I couldn’t tell if he thought I felt guilty for having left or guessed that I had been the one at fault. I knew he couldn’t hope to guess the truth, but if he got close enough with his guess, the result would be the same. Shit.

The stare passed and he continued, picking up the letter and gesturing with it. “I had no idea what had happened to Felix after that, so I sent some people to look for him.”  
He fell silent again. “Dead?” My tone was grim. Dorian nodded.

“Probably. There was no sign of him. There were a lot of mages with the Venatori.”  
I started towards him again and he stopped me with a warning glance, this one less forceful than his previous glare. He would have let me hug him that time, even though he didn’t really seem to want it, but I left him be, partly because I refused to read his mind to be sure he didn’t mind and partly because I didn’t want to give my libido another chance to ruin an already awkward reunion.

“You still drink?”

I chuckled, “Dorian, it hasn’t even been a year, you really think that would have changed?”

His smile still made me feel like I was flying again. “Good to know. Join me at the tavern?”


	5. The Western Approach

We drank for longer than we probably should have. He reached the point where he was nearly passed out and I did my best to mimic a similar state although I was only tipsy after thirty tankards of awful-tasting ale. I knew I’d be tired tomorrow, but I could handle it. I walked Dorian back to his room and we parted ways. He probably wouldn’t remember that I’d mentioned I would be traveling with Bryce to the Western Approach, but at least he’d been sober when we’d reunited. Hopefully he’d at least recognize me the next time we met.

* * *

We left for the Western Approach the next morning.

I told Bryce that Dorian was still drunk, and it was probably a safe bet, given how much he’d had and when we’d turned in for the night. Bryce had Cassandra and Sera join us for the trip. The elf seemed fairly disinterested in me while the Seeker was still openly distrustful. That distrust must have doubled as we approached the horses. Their saddlebags were already loaded and a pack mule had been tethered to Bryce’s stallion. He had a Ferelden Forder, a fairly basic breed, but a fine specimen even so. The others had the same breed and they’d saddled one for me as well, a slightly larger stallion than Bryce’s. It probably had some draft horse in it, I guess they’d looked for a stronger mount believing me to be of qunari size. I suppose between my wings, tail, and axe, I probably was a little heavier than most horses were used to. The last animal I’d ridden had been a Basking Longma I’d raised from the egg, the beast had trusted me with its life. These horses were nowhere near that comfortable with me. I had avoided the stables since I’d arrived and now that I approached, they caught my scent. The noise was deafening. Over a dozen horses shrieked in terror, rearing and bucking, trying everything that they could to flee my presence. The mounts prepared for us tore at their reins, dragging handlers along the ground as they fought their grip. Their eyes rolled and foam flew from their mouths, turning pink as the bits cut into their gums. I reached out to my mount and let my magic influence the animals’ minds.

“Calm.” I spoke a language I doubted those around me would recognize and I spoke softly. The horses calmed, my own especially. It dropped back to all fours and stood, perfectly still. The others relaxed more slowly.

Cassandra was instantly on guard. “How did you do that?”

I rested a hand on my steed’s back and turned to look at the Seeker. I shrugged. “I have a way with animals?”

Bryce snorted, cautiously mounting his own horse. “Yes, just like a fire.” To my surprise, he accepted what I had done. I guess he figured it was a demon thing. Cassandra still thought I was a qunari.

“Did you use magic to calm them?”

I climbed awkwardly onto my own horse, trying to hide how I had to adjust my wings and tail to avoid breaking them as I straddled the animal. I shrugged again, feigning ignorance and she narrowed her eyes. She was right to be suspicious. I would never have risked that display if Dorian had been around or even if there’d been someone within line of sight who could have recognized what I’d done. I would never go so far as to use it on a person, at least no one undeserving, but blood magic had its uses. It had never been anything more or less than a dangerous tool.

Cassandra kept scrutinizing me.

“He’s not going to tell you, so why don’t we just get our butts on the road already!”  
It was the elf who said that, also already mounted with her horse prancing near the gate. Cassandra grudgingly let it go and we set out.

I was used to long rides and liked the simple joy of watching the scenery pass by, but traveling with this particular group brought me a little out of my comfort zone. After last night, I was more than eager to sleep, and I could do so while in the saddle, but when I started that, Bryce got all concerned and then Sera wouldn’t leave me alone about it. She kept asking how I did it, and then trying to get me to teach her. I told her it wasn’t something that could really be taught. Well, that was probably a lie, but I had only learned to sleep in the saddle after learning to sleep while flying, it had to do with locking my joints, so I wasn’t even sure if it was physically possible for her. Sera no sooner gave up and let me shut my eyes than Bryce started asking if I usually slept all morning and the day proceeded in a similar fashion. Eventually, I gave up sleep and just accepted that I’d need to stop being nocturnal while we were traveling.

With my schedule thusly altered, I managed to be somewhat awake when we finally reached the Western Approach. Gazing out on that expanse of red and orange, I couldn’t help but notice how much it had changed. Sand had overtaken the paths I’d once walked every day, civilization had fled, the buildings I’d known had crumbled to ruins. And, from the smell of things, a dragon had moved in. If she was smart, she would avoid me. Reminded yet again of how far this place had fallen, I was in no mood to deal with her. I could also smell the people we were here to meet, and see them off in the distance. I knew one of them already.

We left our horses at the camp and then walked to them. The Warden recognized me before we reached him; I suppose small qunari with strange mounds on their backs are fairly distinctive.

Bryce didn’t seem to notice. He approached Alistair with purpose. “Alistair! This is the ritual tower, then?” He eyed the ancient structure.  
“Yes, Inquisitor.” The reply and greeting was a simple formality as he stepped around Bryce to eye me. He seemed visibly distracted and I suspected I knew why. “You never told me you were working with Qyvetiq.” All the others turned to stare at me.  
“You know each other?”  
“Qy was with us at the end of the fifth Blight, he helped fight the darkspawn at Denerim.”  
The stares turned to looks of surprise or awe, except Alistair’s. He had realized something about me.  
Hawke spoke while Alistair searched for the right words to ask what I knew he was wondering. “Bryce, you’re working with a qunari who fought beside the Hero of Ferelden?”  
Bryce stared at me. “You fought beside her?”  
I bobbled my head. “Eh...well, yes. But it’s not like I knew her for long.”  
“No, but she really took a liking to you. You, her, and Zevran were practically inseparable from the time we met you up until...” Alistair swallowed hard and shook off the memory.  
While he paused, I murmured a bit awkwardly, “I was mostly following Zevran, the two of them were the inseparable pair...”  
“Zevran...” Hawke mused. He’d met the man at some point. “Zevran was her lover, right?”  
“Yes.” Alistair nodded. His tone had a bitter note he hadn’t been able to hide.

The Hero had been quite the woman. I’d met her back before I’d developed morals about reading minds: there’s been a lot of unrequited love around that oblivious girl. Zevran was the one she fell for, but her charm had won over many others. Leliana and Cullen had developed intense attractions for the sunny mage, but she’d never noticed and they’d both handled her unintentional rejection quite easily. Cullen had had more trouble with what happened at the Circle than with his attraction to her, although he might have suffered more had he known the full reality of her magical methods. Alistair was the only one who had really been devastated by her inadvertent deception. She had been kind to a fault, and to his awkward flirtations she had responded with gentle acceptance, never realizing his intentions. He hadn’t noticed her growing attachment to Zevran and when he finally did and confronted her, he realized that she had never even known how he felt. She’d been so affectionate because she was like that to everyone and not because she saw him as anything more than a good friend. And then she had died, and although everyone who had known her grieved, none were so completely devastated as Alistair and Zevran. I’d left with Zevran and stayed with him a while after that, partly through a misguided hope that he might somehow move on and reciprocate the feelings I had for him and partly because I feared what he would do if left alone, after having lost her. The Hero of Fereldan had truly deserved that title; I had never met a more heroic woman in all my long years, but she was also a blood mage. She had told me before she had died, spoken with me at great length about magic and the Fade. I’d told her what I knew, no holds barred, for once. I had trusted her with all my knowledge, which was a rare thing for me. She had only told three people the truth of her magic, how she saw nothing wrong with what so many considered a heinous field of study. I knew, and she had told a friend in the Circle, a blood mage named Jozan, he had taught her some of what she knew and the rest she had figured out from books or practice, and she had told Zevran. She believed Jozan to be dead, and Zevran would take her secret to his grave, I knew. I did not plan to shatter the masses’ belief that the Hero had been pure.

Picking up on the sorrow in Alistair’s silence, Bryce cleared his throat. “Well...we’ve got a ritual to stop, right? Let’s go.”  
Alistair nodded, locking his jaw. “Right.” Bryce and the others started to head to the tower and he fell back to walk beside me. “What are you?” He spoke just loud enough that I could hear. There was a deep fear in his voice, and I suspect that I knew why. I had been surprised when none of the Wardens had mentioned it during the Blight.  
I met his gaze calmly. “What do you think I am?”  
Alistair thought for a second. “A...are you a darkspawn? Is this some strange magic you have that...that does this?”  
I shook my head, unable to fight a subtle grin. “You think I am a darkspawn? I am not a darkspawn. Honestly, I had feared that your guess would be much closer to the truth. And this is no magic I can control, unlike Corypheus. It is not my intention to do this to you.”  
“But you aren’t qunari. You aren’t just some warrior mercenary.” He was starting to get angry. I saw where he was going with this.  
“Alistair, I couldn’t have saved her.”  
He swallowed and accepted that. In a way it was a lie, and in a different way, it was the truth.  
No one else had heard our conversation and our nostalgic thoughts would have to wait as we entered the tower in time to interrupt the Wardens. I still didn’t feel that this was my fight, or that I should have any involvement in this crisis, so I stood back and listened. My devotion to neutrality vanished as they mentioned leading an army of demons to kill the Old Gods and preempt the Blights.

* * *

After hearing his talk about none of this being his problem and knowing even what little I knew of him, I expected Kai to stay silent. To my surprise, he didn’t. I guess this magister struck a nerve.

“What?! Seriously?! When exactly is Corypheus taking over this army? Before or after they go try to kill the Old Gods? They’re not _actually_ going to try that, are they?”  
Erimond seemed taken-aback. “ _That_ is what you’re concerned about, beast? We’ll conquer you too, you know, the whole world will belong to Tevinter by the time this is over, even qunari lands!”  
If I’d thought the magister looked shocked before, it paled in comparison to his face when Kai snapped at him in what had to be Tevene. The startled magister retorted in kind and the two went back and forth unintelligibly for nearly a minute before Hawke cut in.  
“You’ll never succeed!” Hawke snarled at the magister, “We won’t let you!”

* * *

The fight didn’t last long and Erimond fled before we could catch him. What I would have given to be able to take wing and give chase, the look on his face alone would have almost been worth the risk of getting cast out from the Inquisition because they thought I was a demon. At least I had a suspicion that we’d run into that bastard again before this was over.

I was wedging my axe back between the layers of my cloak when Alistair walked over to talk to Bryce. “There’s an old Warden fortress in the direction he fled. It’s called Adamant. My guess is the Wardens are gathered there.”  
Bryce nodded. “Makes sense.”  
Alistair fell silent for a moment. He was looking at me when I turned around. He seemed lost in thought, or maybe just distracted. He snapped out of it. “Well, I’ll meet you there.” He nodded goodbye and left.  
Hawke waved. “See you back at Skyhold.”  
With then gone, Bryce walked over to me. Cassandra was cleaning her sword, clearly disgusted by the smell of demon on it, and Sera seemed to be struggling with her new armor. I guess it didn’t quite fit.  
“Are you that pissed because they’re using demons?”  
Bryce kept his voice low, probably so Cassandra wouldn’t hear and ask. I shook my head.  
“The Old Gods are being corrupted, it’s not like they’re sleeping archdemons. Raising an army to go kill them in the hope of stopping the Blight is ridiculous; it’s like wiping out all mages because they have a chance of becoming possessed.”  
Bryce half shrugged. “Personally, that almost sounds like a decent idea, but...I can see that it’s a little extreme.”  
I scrutinized him. “Which one?”  
He shook his head. I guess, or at least hoped, that he realized that killing mages for fear of possession was crossing a line even I would never cross.  
“Maybe a better metaphor would be murdering children because they might grow up to be bad people. You disagree with that, don’t you?”  
He scowled. “Of course I do! It’s just...” He paused, expecting me to interrupt, but I waited. “It’s just mages, you know? They...they can’t be trusted. They have more power than anyone should have and we can’t be sure they won’t...you know...”  
“Succumb to temptation?”

He nodded.  
“Bryce, they didn’t ask for that power. By that same rule, it could be argued that you have too much power as the Inquisitor, that any monarch has too much power for one person. Power has many forms, not all of them as flashy as fire and lightning.”  
He stared at me. I got the sense that he saw the logic of my statement but didn’t want to accept it. He’d probably been raised to fear magic. Most people had, in my experience, and that was unfortunate.  
I didn’t expect Bryce to accept the truth of what I said right away and he didn’t. Change was never that easy. He shook his head, dropping the conversation like a hot coal, and addressed the rest of the group. “Alright, back to camp, we’ll head for Skyhold in the morning.”  
It was almost sunset. The light took on a spectacular quality, filtering between the rocks and casting everything in gold and orange. The color seemed to ignite at this time of day and the sky fractured into a rainbow of hues. I loved the evening.  
It wasn’t too far to the camp, no more than an hour of walking through the cooling sand and over the rocks. I smelled the rotting corpse of a gurn but thought nothing of it. Bryce was silent, as lost in his thoughts as I was in mine and Cassandra and Sera were debating Sera’s fear of magic. I guess at least one of us should have been paying more attention. I didn’t notice her until the shadow fell over us.

“Dragon!”

It was Cassandra who stated the obvious.

The dragon swooped low over the women, pouncing on Bryce, pinning him beneath its paws. It would have ripped him apart right then, but I stopped it. I didn’t have time to draw my axe, so I rammed it, slicing its cheek with one horn as I shouldered its muzzle away from him. The dragon retaliated. Those jaws clamped onto me with the force of a firing ballista.

* * *

I no sooner drew my sword from beneath the beast’s crushing paws than I saw it strike Kai. The dragon snatched him off the ground and shook him like a mabari at play. I heard a crunch then and bits of the demon’s awful fur coat flew about like down from a pillow before it flung him aside. I couldn’t see him land, but I heard the sickening smack of a body hitting stone as the dragon turned that hungry glare on me.

A sword pierced its side, Cassandra, shouting to distract the dragon as she stabbed. The beast shrieked and swung its tail, knocking her back and sending her tumbling through the sand. I’d never seen Sera shoot so fast, but the dragon didn’t even acknowledge her arrows. It reared to pursue Cassandra and I managed to stand. At least now I could fight, not that I liked our odds.

I lunged and my axe smacked against its scales as the beast spewed fire at Cassandra. The flames left her burnt, but still standing and Sera got the dragon in the nose, deep enough that it actually reacted. It dove for her and she managed to dodge, but a gust from those colossal wings bowled her over. Cassandra stabbed again, but her blade glanced off its belly. I dove for it and got stuck by that tree-trunk tail, rolling me through the sand. As I got up, it caught Sera beneath one taloned paw and arched its neck to breathe at Cassandra.

A ball of black and purple shot towards the dragon with an inhuman shriek of rage. For a split second, I thought another dragon had joined the fight on our side, but then I recognized Kai. His coat had torn open along the back. Trailing bits of black bear pelts fluttered over the blazing colors of his unfurled wings. He was flying. His tail stretched out behind him as well, rising as he struck her and drew his axe. The dying sun lit the blade as if it was flame and it cut the fire dragon as if her scales weren’t even there. Maybe that was just because it was made of dragon bone, or maybe Kai had some trick he’d learned from hunting dragons. I’d honestly thought he’d lied about that before, but now I beleived. His blade struck the dragon’s back, breaking bone, cutting deep. She hissed and stumbled, spinning around to face him. Kai landed in front of me, wings spread, flapping them a little to control his movements. He shrieked again, a sound not even close to human, and she responded in kind, spreading her own wings in a threat display. Kai tossed his head. For a normal man, that might have looked silly, or maybe vain, but for him it came off as threatening. His sleek and bloody horns gleamed crimson in the light of the setting sun, his hair flew about like a mane. He looked like a monster now more than ever before.

The dragon drew breath to burn and he rushed her. He struck her chest with the head of his axe, stabbing with the tops of the blades. The sheer force of the blow lifted the dragon off the ground, almost flinging her backward and snapping her neck down. She channeled the motion into an attempt to bite him and he slapped her jaws aside, pulling Vesper free and hooking the blade into the side of her skull, just behind her horn. He brought her head down, bearing her muzzle into the sand. When he’d fought the demons, he’d attacked like a normal man, skillfully, but with his axe. Maybe he’d used an elbow-strike here, or a kick there, but he’d fought normally. Now he attacked like a wild animal, and it was never so evident as in the way that he lunged for the dragon’s eye, right in front of him, staring at him in fear and fury. He sank his teeth into her eyelid and held on, clinging to the side of the dragon’s face by his jaws as she shrieked in agony and reared. Kai freed his axe. By now Sera had snapped out of her daze enough to shoot at the beast, though her arrows still didn’t do much, but Cassandra, to my great surprise, stared blankly at the man she now recognized as a demon. I guess she didn’t know what side to fight on any more.

I ran for the dragon. I would have liked to claim that my sword landed the killing blow, but that was surely Kai’s axe, which he swung wildly at any part of her that he could reach while he slowly gnawed her eyelid. At the very least, I managed to get through her scales and I like to think that helped. It might have been minutes or it might have been hours, but finally the dragon fell. That enormous length of muscle and blood and scales stilled and sagged and slowly dropped into the sand in a spectacular cloud of dust. By now the sun had set and the dragon that had looked so brilliantly orange could almost be mistaken for purple or grey.

With a flap of his wings, Kai dropped to the sand as the great skull smacked the rock beside him. He spat blood on the ground and wiped his mouth on the back of his sleeve.

“Sure you want to spit it out? I’ve heard dragon blood gives some kind of...power to the people who drink it.” I was just looking for some way to make light of all this. Between the hits I’d taken and swinging a sword for at least a few minutes straight, everything hurt. I’d nearly died, we’d all nearly died, and then somehow we’d killed a dragon. It didn’t seem real. I felt like I was dreaming, but at the same time I felt more alive than I could ever remember feeling before. I just wanted something simple while I processed all that.

Kai seemed to understand. He cleaned the blood off his axe and grinned. “I don’t need any more power.”

“Fuck, yeah!” Sera emerged from behind the corpse, grinning even more idiotically than usual. “I mean, shit, we just took down a dragon! You, mostly. I mean, you’re a...a demon, yeah? But...” She shuddered. I got the feeling that she was torn. He’d pretty much saved our lives and she recognized that, but she had this ingrained fear of magic and demons. I understood completely, heck, I was in the same situation with Kai, nearly the same situation with Dorian, and to a lesser degree the other mages. The things they could do— or, in Kai’s case, what he was— absolutely terrified me, but on the other hand they were on our side.  
“You’re...not going to possess me, right?”  
Kai shook his head, considering the tattered remains of his coat and shrugging it off. “I don’t have any interest in that.”  
Cassandra was standing near me, just staring at Kai. I got the feeling that she was prepared to attack him, given the slightest provocation.  
His statement seemed to calm Sera a little. “Good. Because just so you know, if you tried to possess me, you’d be getting a face fill of fuckin’ arrows, that’s what.”  
“Believe me, if I had the slightest interest in possessing anyone, you would be my last choice.”  
I couldn’t tell if he meant that as an insult or not and she seemed to have the same dilemma. I almost saw her forming a retort and wondering if she dared to say it, but she let it go as Kai stretched and snapped his wings before settling them back onto his back. He eyed the dragon.  
“I would appreciate if this did not become common knowledge. Frankly, I don’t believe you could have survived that fight if I had not been here, so the way I see it, you owe me at least some discretion.”  
I took off my gauntlets and waited for the others to react first. My waiting backfired.  
“You _knew_!”  
It was Cassandra who spoke, and I found her glaring when I turned around. I grimaced. “Yes, I knew. He still saved my life, and he’s still clearly on our side, why does it matter?”  
“But _you_ , of all people?!” She snarled in exasperation. “I thought you were the _most_ suspicious of demons, how could you— ?!”  
“I’ll admit I’m not fond of what he is, but he hasn’t hurt us yet. He saved my life, and he’s asked nothing in return.”  
“I’m not here for personal gain,” Kai clarified, “Or at least not the kind that will hurt anyone.”  
I looked at him, more than a little agitated, and asked the question that had been on my mind for a while, “Well, then why _are_ you here, Kai?”  
He answered slowly. Even Sera turned and waited for his explanation. “I am here to observe.” He paused for so long that I started to speak but stopped as he continued, “I came to the Inquisition to watch these events unfold, to see first-hand the interactions between everyone involved and how things turned out. I came here out of curiosity. Originally, I had planned not to interfere, but now...now I’m invested. I have...I’ve become attached to certain people here, and I wish to protect them. As long as you let me do that, I will bring you no harm.”  
“That doesn’t sound like something a demon would do.” I don’t even know if I said that because I thought he was lying or because I suspected something closer to the truth.  
Kai gave me a look somewhere between a grin and a solemn stare, “I never said I was a demon.”  
“But...you look like one, yeah?” Sera blustered, “You’ve got the wings, the horns, the tail, all that, so what are you if you’re not a...a demon? You gotta be a demon, right?”  
Cassandra considered him. “Are you a spirit?”  
Kai shrugged. “Perhaps.”  
That earned a scowl from me. “Look, you’re not really in the most trustworthy position here, at least give us a straight answer.”  
He hesitated, still eyeing the dead dragon. “...I...am not a demon. What I am is...complicated, and I doubt if I explained you would understand or believe, but you can trust me.” Everyone kept watching him with expressions far from trusting. Kai sighed. “Alright, I’ll summarize what I know. I was born...human, more or less. My father was human, my mother was an elf. At some point very early on I...encountered a spirit, I suppose. I don’t know how, and I don’t really understand it myself, but the best I can explain is that that spirit is somehow a part of me, and whether by my own magic or the spirit’s, I’ve grown wings, and horns, and a tail. And sometimes they go away, but I haven’t been able to change how I look by choice.”

I wasn’t always the most perceptive guy, but I could tell he was still hiding something. I didn’t know what, but somehow that wasn’t the whole truth.

“So...you’re a mage?” Sera was confused, for once understandably so.  
Kai looked at her and shrugged. “Maybe?”

Cassandra stared at him and then at me. I met her gaze and shrugged. “By my count he’s saved my life twice, I’m not planning to kick him out just because we don’t know what he is.” Plus, Kai at least had no say in the matter. Cole had at least chosen to come out of the Fade, where spirits belonged, if not chosen to take human form, assuming he wasn’t just some weird mage, which I still half expected to be the case. Kai, if he had any magic, didn’t use it. He just tried to live a normal life, and I respected that. He wasn’t like other mages who ran around casting spells left and right and messing with spirits and the Fade, and breaking the way the world was supposed to work. Getting possessed wasn’t great either, but that was just because they messed with the Fade, right? If they just didn’t go playing around with it, they were safe, so why didn’t they just leave well enough alone and live normal lives?


	6. Desert Nights

Sera, Cassandra, and I went back to camp while Kai skinned the dragon. He said he had some other things he wanted to do as well and we all left him be. Sera and I started drinking, our way of celebrating the dragon-slaying and we started up a game of Wicked Grace with Cassandra. She really was more friendly than she often appeared and however on-edge she and Sera were about Kai, we all managed to be pretty relaxed by the time the enigmatic whatever he was wandered back into camp, cleaned up and passably qunari again in a brand new dragon-hide cloak. He gestured over his shoulder as he approached. “I’ve cleaned the carcass and there’s a lot of material we could use as well as some trinkets the beast had swallowed; I’ve piled them up over there with the scouts.”

I nodded, figuring I’d deal with that in the morning. It was late, late enough that the scouts and requisitions officer had moved a little outside of the camp so they wouldn’t keep us awake with torches or conversation, assuming we actually went to sleep at a decent hour. Sera seemed about to pass out. She’d had five tankards of ale and her last six bets hadn’t made any sense. I wasn’t particularly sober either, but I was by no means incoherent. Cassandra, unsurprisingly, had hardly gotten tipsy. I wasn’t sure the woman had ever gotten drunk in her life and frankly I couldn’t even picture how she’d act if she got more than a bottle in her.

By the time Kai returned, we’d had enough of the game. Cassandra stood as he returned. “Well, it is late, I believe I should retire for the night. See you in the morning.”

She retreated to her tent and I expected Kai to take over her seat, but he didn’t, he just looked up at the stars. It was getting cold and even though I wasn’t tired, the chill made me want to head into the tent. For practicality’s sake, we had to share; Cassandra and Sera slept in one while I shared with Kai. Initially, that had been partly because I already knew, or thought I knew what he was, but it was still an awkward arrangement. Sera probably enjoyed it, but I wasn’t Sera. I’d almost rather have shared with a woman I wasn’t attracted to over a man that I was, it was less likely that anything really awkward would happen that way.

We’d let the campfire die down and now it was just embers so the desert chill was really starting to settle in. Sera, in the thin clothes she’d packed because we were headed to a desert, shivered visibly and yawned. She mumbled something and I figured she must have said goodnight as she followed Cassandra’s much earlier path to the ladies’ tent. I didn’t know what to say to Kai, so I just stayed quiet as he stargazed, thinking and finishing my bottle of mead. I’d already had several tankards of ale, the mead was just my personal stash, a bottle I’d picked up back home and kept in my room at Skyhold with a few others. I’d opened this today and didn’t realize until now that I’d nearly finished it.

After over an hour just watching the skies, Kai sighed and rolled his shoulders. “Well, good night.” He shivered and went into the tent. I looked into my bottle. Not much left, maybe a sip, maybe a little more. I shrugged and downed it. No point saving so little. The cold was starting to get to me. I could see my breath in the dry air and now the fire had completely gone out, but I still wasn’t tired and I liked the open space. I looked up. Maybe Kai was on to something, the stars really were spectacular way out here. The sky looked deeper blue than I’d ever seen it before and every star seemed to glitter like a diamond while the endless sand and rock stretched to every horizon. Or maybe I was just seeing it like this because I was drunk. I didn’t feel like I was really smashed, but I knew I was more than tipsy. If I was smart, I probably would have been more careful, maybe waited until I sobered up a bit, but bad decisions were practically a trademark of mine. No sense disappointing fate.

By the time I followed Kai into the tent, he was already asleep, and once I was alone in the small, dark space, my mood plummeted, as it usually did when I drank and wasn’t surrounded by happy friends. I took off my armor and lay down beside him, in my own bedroll, and pulled the blankets as tight around me as I could manage. The thin canvas walls did little to keep out the chill of the air. Cold seeped in through the gaps and saturated the blankets like all the fear and worry that usually kept me awake. I was smashed, pretty thoroughly drunk, if I was even sober enough to judge that. I couldn’t have walked ten feet like this, not that I wanted to wander the desert at night anyway. My father always said that he drank to forget, but I never got that. When I drank, I only got more depressed. We’d lived today, but that was a hollow victory, tomorrow there’d just be another dragon, or an archdemon, or some crazed magister from the dawn of existence. We were all dead one way or another, it was just a matter of time.

Maker, how did anyone ever think that drinking would help? Now I was even more depressed, and overwhelmed, and even more certain that I had never been the right person to lead this insane operation. And now I was drunk, and cold, and slightly queasy. And aside from making me massively depressed, drinking usually made a few other changes to my mood. I got more outspoken and both said and did the kind of things I regretted once I was sober, though that seemed fairly typical. I’d met people who got very angry or very friendly when they drank, but I fell somewhere in the middle. After a few bottles, whatever opinions I had of a person seemed a hundred times stronger. If I liked someone, they were suddenly my best friend and I’d already lost a lot of good friends by doing that. I’d lost even more good friends because, if I was attracted to someone, that also intensified, and things generally got awkward after a night at the tavern suddenly had my hand down someone’s pants. That was one of the many reasons that I refused to get drunk around Dorian. The other was that dislike also intensified. I’d threatened to kill one of my less-savory cousins after a few too-many glasses of wine. I didn’t know where Dorian fell between the two extremes and I didn’t want to find out. Either way, it would end badly. I knew I didn’t completely hate him. I hated Tevinter. I hated mages. I hated having to deal with all the complicated, crazy, power of magic and the Fade, and I hated having accidentally gotten stuck with a magical mark that left everyone looking to me for leadership, salvation, or vengeance. I wanted no part of this. I wanted no part of any of this.

Kai shivered and rolled over, wrapping one arm around me and dragging me into a hug for warmth. Even if I had bothered to resist the apparent qunari, I doubt I was stronger than him. He dragged me towards him, bedroll and all and I can’t say the cold or my current state of mind left me with any inclination to resist him. It wasn’t as if the result was unpleasant. With the bitter chill and the pathetic state of our blankets, the hug was not unwelcome. And Kai, whatever he was, was not unpleasant company by any means.

Only after he had me pressed up against him did I realize that he was hard. Beneath the heavy coats and thick clothing he always wore, it was difficult to see, but feeling his body against me, I could almost trace the shapes of his pectorals, his broad, powerful chest, his muscular thighs, and then that cock. I’d seen him nude only once, a stunning man, excluding the horns, wings, and tail. I still didn’t know what he was, and I knew better than to expect him to answer outright, but he certainly seemed normal enough in personality...and he had made no advances or attempts to possess anyone as far as I knew...and Cole seemed to trust him. Solas trusted him to, but I didn’t trust the elven apostate. He seemed so obsessed with the Fade that he would have sold us all to demons if it got him knowledge, besides, I knew he didn’t like me. Cole seemed kind enough and he at least had everyone’s best interests at heart, even if he was somewhat unnatural. I trusted him on that, despite the fact that his methods might not always be the best. Demon or not, Qyvetiq had shown no signs of treachery, so I was inclined to let him be. I did not trust him, at least not with everything, but I expected that the man wouldn’t kill me in my sleep.

I rolled in his grasp to consider him. His eyes were closed and his breathing just slow enough that I believed him to be sleeping. His hair looked black in the minimal light, but I could see the shape of his handsome face, the relaxed curve of his brows, the polished ebony of his horns. If Qyvetiq was a demon, he was a desire demon, assuming the mages could be trusted in their descriptions. For all I knew, desire demons where just an inside joke, a myth mages made up to slip porn into their texts. I’d seen pictures of desire demons, but only of female ones. They were tantalizing. Qyvetiq had been tantalizing bathing, his cock hanging flaccid. Now it was erect, hidden beneath the clothes he used to hide his wings and tail. I wondered what it looked like. It felt larger. Longer, thicker, maybe it changed color like his eyes? I supposed there was only one way to find out, really. Even if it looked exactly the same, the chance to see that cock again seemed worth the risk of waking him. Besides, the logic of liquor told me, he had to be a deep sleeper.

The cold kept me half-awake and soon my thoughts found their way to Dorian and Bryce. Maybe it was just the booze, or the smell of booze, or the smell of Bryce beside me, or the faint sound and smell of rutting gurns, but this time those thoughts left the topic of emotion and entered the realm of fantasy, fast delving into the kind of scenarios that involved lots of drinking and sex.

Vague images flowed through my mind, some memories, some fantasy, some mine, and some other people’s, taken in scraps from their thoughts, not all of it stolen by accident. There was no shortage of fantasy when you could draw from the collective imaginations of everyone around you. Granted, there were minds I wish I had never entered, but it was incredibly difficult to really appall me with a thought, or even an experience. And the things that came to mind now were only the good ones. I thought of Dorian first, my own fantasy, just imagining if there had been nothing to hold us back, I could have taken him right in the library, maybe even on the railing, something to really shock the elf if he had the misfortune to wake up. Or maybe in the air. Bryce knew about my wings, I could try that with him, I even knew how I’d do it. Fly high up, miles up, maybe lock my wings, maybe free fall and then glide or just flap to gain altitude again. Sex and flying, that had to be a good combination. I’d thought about it before, flying over the sea. I’d been thinking about Dorian again that time, odd how I’d managed to find him twice, both times by accident, when I had never reunited with anyone else except my sister. I certainly enjoyed having run into Dorian for a second time more than I ever enjoyed rediscovering my sister; the woman was like a viper that kept showing up under the latest stone I’d turned over.

My thoughts drifted further back after that, to my fantasies of Zevran and the single experience I’d actually had with him. The Warden they called the Hero of Ferelden had been adventurous in more ways than one. From there my thoughts tracked back through my long life, touching on each significant person I’d desired, whether or not that interest had ever come to fruition. They came full circle, bringing up a brief image of Bryce, a fantasy of what he might look like if he ever took off all that armor, before delving into memories of that last night with Dorian before we’d parted ways for a time. He’d been so drunk he could barely stand, in retrospect, I was surprised that he didn’t pass out sooner. I’d been feigning drunkenness, but really I was hardly tipsy. I felt bad for that, I wasn’t sure how much he would have wanted to do if he’d been sober, but I hadn’t considered such things at the time. Drunk, he’d been just as into it as I was, we’d pawed at each other all the way up the narrow staircase, tugged at buttons, pulled at each other’s clothes. He’d had his hand down the front of my pants before I’d even gotten the door open.

Lost in the bliss of the recollection, I’d been almost asleep, but physical sensation drew me back to reality. I wasn’t just imagining a hand on my pants. Keeping very still, I opened my eyes. The glow gave me away and showed me what was happening. Bryce lay in front of me, dressed for sleep in the plain and thin clothing he wore beneath his heavy armor. He’d untied the coat I’d just made and laid it open. He’d pulled my many layers of tunics up and unbuckled my belt. He had his fingers under the top of my pants but when I’d opened my eyes, he’d frozen and looked up like a thief caught in the act.

He relaxed when I grinned. I nodded downward, “Well, don’t stop now...”

Bryce grinned and abruptly repositioned us. He steered me onto my back and I obeyed, spreading my wings out a bit beneath us in a way that left the spindly bones resting raised against the fabric of the tent. He knelt between my thighs, straddling my tail.

* * *

Damn, he was so passive. It was almost awkward to do this. If Kai had been more aggressive, I knew I would probably have been uncomfortable— not only was he some kind of spirit or demon, but I knew he was strong enough to almost knock over a dragon, if he turned that kind of strength on me... On one hand, the idea turned me on, but I really didn’t know him well enough to be comfortable knowing he had me completely at his mercy. It was better that he let me do this at my own pace, even if it was kind of strange having the horned man lying there beneath me, completely relaxed, legs stretched out, arms resting limp by his sides. The only sign that he was even awake was the glow of his eyes and that subtle grin. I couldn’t even see him breathing, he just lay there, letting me do as I wished to him.

I realized I’d been staring at him and blushed, looking down to avoid that unnervingly calm stare. I couldn’t help but recall that bone-chilling shriek he’d made during the fight, but then I caught sight of the bulge in his pants and remembered where my hand was, and felt how cold it was in here.

I was still curious to see what it looked like erect.

Kai stayed perfectly still as I took off his pants and small clothes. Most of what he wore had clearly been pieced together from the hides of animals he’d hunted, but to my surprise, that wasn’t the case with his small clothes. They were made of some fine cloth, dyed dark, but probably fine silk or something like it. I’d seen less finely-crafted garments on kings, how the hell did Kai have anything like that? I nearly asked him, but then I looked down and the ridiculous quality seemed to make sense. Now that he was hard, he was fucking huge. It was less the girth than the length, he had to be fifteen inches long and the width wasn’t anything to scoff at either. I’d expected something strange about it, but aside from the size he looked human, a little more tapered, a little more textured towards the base, but nothing too odd. Even so, with that length, there was no way I was taking him, so I guess it was good that I’d rather top.

Unable to resist, I ran my hand across his hip and over the base, gently tracing my way up to his tip and then back down. Kai hardly moved, only twitching involuntarily at my touch. He stayed almost silent, his breathing speeding up just a tiny bit now that I was listening for it. How was he this quiet? That was almost a challenge to me. My fingers trailed farther down, caressing the velvety skin of his balls. Again, I’d expected something a bit more demonic- I hadn’t had a good view of them when he’d been bathing. They were pretty normal, maybe larger than the average man’s, but not by much. I even gave them a gentle squeeze and still he stayed quiet. Alright, now I was really going to test him with this. He wasn’t going to stay silent forever.

I slid my hand farther back, running it over the back of his scrotum to the point where it met his crotch. I expected to meet smooth skin, to follow it back a few inches and find his entrance. That wasn’t what my fingers met at the base. I felt two soft mounds, warm and tender. Kai swallowed a gasp. Looking up, I saw him close his eyes for a moment and then look down to see my confusion. He glanced away. “Are you...alright with that?”  
I stared at him, trying to process what he’d said and everything I was feeling. “What are you, Kai?”  
He seemed more than a little awkward. “What I said earlier was more or less true. It’s just...not only horns, wings, and a tail that I can grow or lose.”  
I hoped he’d say more, but he fell silent. I continued after a few seconds. “So...this?” I rested my fingers against it, pushing forward just a little. My outermost fingers brushed his muscular thighs, my ring and index finger traced the velvety ridges, and my middle finger slipped between them through a narrow slit into the hot, wet cavern beyond. “Is this what I think it is?”  
Kai stifled a moan and eyed me with a slightly different emotion, one I couldn’t place. “Most likely. Are you...alright with that?”

* * *

I’m pretty sure I actually flinched when he dove forward and kissed me. I faced down dragons without wavering and the man had actually made me flinch. Bravo, Bryce.  
He mashed out mouths together so forcefully that he probably bruised my lips. After a few seconds, I reciprocated, pushing up against his lips with that same force. His tongue shoved into my mouth and I exhaled. My magic had gathered in that breath, hot like fire, but harmless. It poured into him and filled him. I could tell Bryce was startled by that, but he didn’t break the kiss. Instead the fingers between my legs plunged inward, at first three, and then four, and then his whole fist.

At that point I had to break the kiss to gasp. He shoved his whole forearm into me, forcing flesh to stretch. I didn’t often deal with that part of me during sex, it made me feel strange, but I liked the sensation. Besides, I usually went for gay men, not bisexuals, so it was generally a good idea for me to just leave out the one part of me that wasn’t male.

* * *

I’d never expected to have sex with someone as good looking as Kai, who was also, apparently, hermaphroditic. Damn, this was hot. My arm barely fit in him and I lifted it so he’d arch his back and I’d be able to thrust into his ass without breaking the kiss. He was surprisingly flexible.

* * *

Kissing him again, I moaned around his lips. Damn, that felt weird, having him in me, pulling my hips off the ground by the arm inside me. Good weird. Very good weird.  
Bryce started sliding his hand in and out, slowly at first and then faster, rubbing his knuckles along the wet and sensitive skin inside my vagina. He fumbled with his pants and then I felt him running his tip along my skin, trying to find the entrance his arm wasn’t already inside. He nearly bit my tongue as he finally got it in. I heard him stifle a gasp and smiled despite myself. I’d been told I was good, but I figured his surprise was more likely due to the magical heat of my body. It was the same with my mouth, I was much better at channelling my magic through my breath and my insides than through a staff. Most people who knew said they could feel it inside me, and that was probably the case here. Or maybe it was just that as he thrust in, I curled my tail up behind him and let the tip stroke the inside of his thigh. He froze completely when I did that and then he relaxed and started thrusting. Drunk as he was, he hammered into me irregularly with both his cock and his arm, but I didn’t mind. Using both, he was imaginative enough to surprise me and although he wasn’t overly well endowed, his arm at least stretched me out enough to feel amazing. Besides, I usually just had to manage with my hand, so this was a lot better than average.

Soon enough I’d wrapped my tail around his leg and let the smooth scales rub back and forth across his skin while the tip stroked his balls. I exhaled more magic into our kiss as I got close, and that pushed him over the edge. He cried out as he came and nipped my lower lip. The last of that breath escaped my mouth and a ghostly trace of orange flame curled up through the dry air as my own cock spasmed and pumped my seed across my chest. Bryce didn’t even seem to notice as he pulled out and collapsed against me. My cock twitched a few more times between us, throughly soaking both our shirts with semen and Bryce just lay there, eyes closed, sleepy grin on his face. He murmured something happily unintelligible and fell asleep.

I grinned. Well, this was probably going to complicate matters, but that wasn’t always a bad thing. Now I was certain that I’d made the right choice by saving his life. I wrapped my wings over him, warmer than any blanket, and shut my eyes. I actually managed to get some sleep that night.


	7. A Sticky Situation

I woke up warm. For a long moment I wondered what was on my back. I was wrapped up in something like a blanket, except it was warm, really warm, like the dog that slept on my bed at home. It took me a second of blearily staring at the dark expanse to sort things out. Oh, yeah, I’d just fucked a man with wings. I could hardly feel the bones they were so light, but the skin was warm and soft. Up close, I could see the tiny scales and the slight twitching of the blood vessels silhouetted in the morning sunlight. His wings looked dark purple.

Kai was still asleep. I stretched and he must have felt it, because his wings opened, fluttered a little, and settled against the walls of the tent. He shifted beneath me, rolling over just a bit. Some time in the night, he’d unwound his tail from my leg and I could feel it curled on the bedroll beneath my knees. Our shirts were completely stuck together.

I could hear the girls talking over breakfast. No need to make this more awkward than it already was. I tried and failed to separate our clothes, so I squirmed out of mine. I’d never gotten my pants all the way off and Kai hadn’t even opened his multiple shirts, I guess that was for the best, given the state of our shirts now. Luckily I had a spare. I threw it on and packed what I could without waking Kai. It didn’t take long and soon I was outside.

The desert sun made my skull throb, I knew I’d be hung-over, but this was pretty bad.

Sera made the morning worse. She was the first to see me as I left the tent.

“Heard you had some fun last night with the demon.” She made some crude sucking sounds. I wasn’t remotely in the mood to deal with her.

I ignored her and went about getting breakfast. Sera followed closely and sat down beside me when I ate. “What was it like? I mean, I never pegged you as the type to, you know, swing that way, but he’s a demon, yeah? How is it with wings and horns and...magic, and stuff?”  
“Sticky.” Hangovers made me ludicrously honest.  
She laughed. “That why you changed your shirt? Like, demon sticky, yeah? Or just...sticky. Cause it’s sticky normally, isn’t it? Like, with those bits involved, yeah? Weird...” Kai must have woken up, because that was when he emerged and walked over. I guess he’d overheard what she’d said.  
“This was normal sticky, but I like to think what I am helped things along.” He had his dragon-hide coat buttoned up to hide his wings and tail. It had been less obvious with the fur one, but he actually buttoned his wings into the hood, which was never completely down. When he wasn’t wearing it over his head, it just hung like a sail half in his hair and between his horns. He had his hide bag slung over one shoulder and a canteen in his other hand. He hadn’t taken his gloves off last night, I realized, and wondered if his hands looked human.  
“I thought I told you I wasn’t a demon, but if you don’t believe me...”  
Sera got up, shaking her head. “I don’t know and don’t care. Whatever you are you’re...you’re just wrong! It’s not right to have wings like that, and... I mean, you look like a demon, right? You can’t look like that and be...normal. Something’s just _wrong_ with you.” She set off to pack and I looked at Kai. I wondered where we stood after that. Did he see this as just a bit of fun, or...?  
“Assuming Sera and Cassandra keep their mouths shut, I won’t mention this to anyone.”  
I nodded. “That’s... thanks. I’ll talk to them.”

Cassandra scrutinized me the whole way back, but she kept it quiet, both Kai’s strange nature and my relationship with him. Sera was less clearly decided, I just hoped that she wouldn’t make enough sense for anyone to actually figure out what, if anything, she told people about Kai and myself. I won’t lie and claim that nothing more happened between Kai and myself on the way back to Skyhold. By day we chatted with each other and the girls, he usually wondered off for a while around the time we stopped to eat. He never told me why and avoided the question whenever I asked. He seemed very good at evading questions.

After the dragon, we didn’t face anything significant on the journey back. In truth, it was rather uneventful, so every night Kai and I had plenty of energy for...other things. He didn’t explain exactly what this was between us and I didn’t have the courage to ask. I got the sense that he meant it casually, so I chose to work under that assumption. This was fun. This was nice. If the opportunity arose, maybe we could make this something more, but if I found a different...interest, then I’d pursue that. Maybe. It would depend on the circumstance. I certainly didn’t plan to tell anyone even if things progressed beyond sex, not until I could get out of the public eye. This would be a clandestine kind of thing.

* * *

We got back late at night, having pushed through after dark because of how close we were. I admit, I was a little disappointed that Bryce and I wouldn’t have one more night together, but I figured there’d be more soon enough. With everything the Inquisition was involved in, I never expected him to be at Skyhold for long. I figured I’d be traveling with him again soon enough.

In the mean time, I chose to become nocturnal again, or at least I planned to. Bryce and the girls were all exhausted, they needed to sleep much more regularly than I did, although, in a way, I suppose it was less a more frequent need and more a much shorter duration. It was night, and I was awake, as always. Perhaps it was the starlight, or the colder air, or maybe just my connection to the darkness. Maybe it was some kind of instinct. I couldn’t sleep now.

I went to the tavern, planning to drink a bit and maybe draw. I’d had enough conversation on the long journey and I wanted a break until morning, at least. Bull was in the tavern, as usual, along with his men. I was a bit surprised that Dorian wasn’t, but I guess he was reading. Bull usually hit on the waitresses, or at least flirted with them, but he didn’t tonight. I wasn’t watching, but I listened, and eventually curiosity made me turn around. With all the smells from the day’s patrons, I couldn’t have known it by scent, so it came as a surprise when I saw that this particular serving girl was pregnant. I guess that did make it clear why he hadn’t flirted with her. The servants feared me even though I’m pretty sure they still thought I was a qunari warrior. I got my own food and drink and kept my distance, and they seemed to forget I was here. Maybe it was some elven thing that the elves somehow knew what I was and told the human servants. Maybe. I could see that sort of thing happening if they’d been wardens, but not just elves. This was just paranoia on their parts, fear of the odd qunari who showed up alone in the Frostbacks. It didn’t matter that I’d saved the Herald, the circumstances were too strange to ignore and that suited me just fine. I preferred being seen as the dangerous pariah to being a second savior, or, worse yet, a god. I’d learned long ago that I should never hold such power.

I did draw, as it turned out. I sat in the back of the tavern, half-listening to Bull and the Chargers and half lulled into a trance by Sera’s impressively loud snoring. Once again, I’d forgotten all about Cole, but he reminded me suddenly by appearing nearby, looking over my shoulder to study the sketch.

“You don’t remember that body, but you know what you look like. Black scales over sleek muscles, wings in purple, red, and gold, dark blue on the edges and on your belly, you had bits that trailed off the wings and you have them now, you don’t know why none of the others had those.”  
I glanced up to make sure we were out of earshot and then smiled at him. “Yes. I like them, and they’re fun to draw. Do you like the drawing?”  
He studied the picture. It wasn’t one of my best, more realistic than most things I drew, but less careful. This was a quick one to pass the time, not a detailed work of art. “Your eyes don’t glow, and the color doesn’t shift when you move, nor does the light.” I started to answer and he added, “But it _is_ very pretty, and it looks the way you used to look back then. Your face was sadder, not as angry as they show you in statues, but not as happy as you look now...”  
I frowned at him. “You see me looking like that now?”  
He looked confused. “I see you looking...strange. Your body isn’t really your body, and you’ve changed it, so sometimes you look like that and sometimes you look human, and sometimes your body fills up the sky and shines like stars.”  
I chuckled lightly. “Cole, sometimes I don’t know if you’re a bit odd or if I’d understand you if I remembered things more.” I tore out the page and handed it to him. “Do you want this?”  
He smiled. “Yes. Thank you.” I gave him the sketch and started a new one. Cole watched over my shoulder. “Would you draw me sometime?” I stared up at him. “I mean, I know how you look to me, do I look like that to you? Do you see me as a spirit sometimes and then human, and then...something else?”  
I considered him. “That’s hard to answer. Cole, with these eyes I see you as a human, but in a way I also see you as a spirit, but it’s not visual. I can sense your shape and know what you are, but that’s not something I can really draw.”  
“Oh...” He sounded disappointed.  
“I can still draw you as a human, if you want to see how you look.”  
“Alright. I’d like that.”  
I smiled and started to do so, working more from memory than from observation. “You don’t look at what you’re drawing because you remember it for a little bit, like a painting in your mind, but if you look at it, you start to see beyond and that makes it harder to see.”  
“Just the drawbacks of drawing while being what I am, I guess.”  
He paused and watched me for a while. I appreciated the quiet. I was nearly done when he blurted out, “Your sister was here. She wants to help you.”  
It took a great effort to keep from messing up the highlights of his hair. “My sister?”  
“She calls herself Silvanus, the same way you call yourself Qyvetiq. Why do you make-up new names?”  
“Because the old ones carry a lot of pain. How exactly does she want to help me?”  
“She wants you to help her so she can help you. She’s afraid. Afraid for herself and afraid for you. She thinks she’s next, she doesn’t know when, but it is coming for her, they’re coming for her, and she doesn’t know how to stop it alone.”  
I shook my head. I guess it wasn’t surprising if she was planning what it sounded like she was planning. “Cole, stop talking about that. Don’t mention my sister, don’t mention our real names, don’t mention what she’s planning. That isn’t something that people here should know.”  
He gave me that innocent stare. The boy looked like a lost little mabari; he was adorable, and I knew he didn’t understand why I told him what I did.  
“Cole, just...trust me. This isn’t something they should worry about, not for a long time, not unless something really bad comes of it.”  
“You think this is how it’s supposed to happen. But what if it isn’t? How do you know?”  
I rested a hand on his shoulder. “And that’s something I’ve been wondering for a long time. Cole, help the others. This kind of thing is too complicated, just let me deal with my problems on my own, please.”  
He looked torn and I focused on finishing the drawing. “But...but they still make you hurt. And you’re trying to help other people now, you should be happy, but...”

I finished the drawing and handed it to him. “Look, I’ll be fine, I’m happier now than I’ve been in a very long time, you just trust me on this.” The kid had me feeling almost maternal, which was more than a little strange for me. I felt like I had to look after him and keep him safe. Yet another reason I wanted to keep him well away from my sister.

Cole watched me draw for the rest of the night, but he didn’t ask about my sister any more. Instead he asked me about art. I let him look through my mind for most of the answers; as long as we were out of earshot, I didn’t care what he said aloud. Inevitably, he found some of my more private memories and asked about them, he was like a dog that got into the larder, only more awkward because I still say him as a child and he delved into some of the most erotic things I had ever done.

Another downside of being friends with a telepath was that, when I got a bit too disturbed by having him vividly describe the more lurid details of my past and tried to escape, he’d know I was lying if I said I was just tired. And then he apologized. God, how did Bryce ever _deal_ with this kid?

Eventually I got away and got to sleep in the rafters of my old tower. Well, not “my old” in that I’d lived here before the Inquisition, but just the old, ruined tower I had been occupying before I’d joined Bryce to head west for a bit. An owl had moved in. That seemed appropriate. I settled into my corner as it roosted for the night. It slept peacefully and I sank into the sort of trance I usually lay in while my body had to rest. That was the thing, I supposed. Even if my spirit needed no sleep, my physical form only drew enough energy from the Fade to be resilient and channel magic; it still needed food, water, rest, all that. So most nights I let the muscles go dormant, the eyelids close, and the senses stop focusing on the world around me. I think most nights this almost stopped my breathing. My body didn’t die, when I let it rest, but it didn’t sleep. Frankly, I’m surprised that more of my partners hadn’t noticed that. The state had been unnerving at first, I remember that vividly. Once I let my body rest, it was difficult to wake it back up, which was alarming on it’s on, but add to that the fact that I was essentially trapped in a body I had voluntarily paralyzed, left unable to sense the world around me by more than touch, and unable to enter the Fade or even truly dream... Some might say that state was worse than death. I guess I was used to it.


	8. Too Drunk

I didn’t rouse my body until the next evening. When I woke, the owl had perched on the top of the tower and was making quite a ruckus. Not terribly fond of dealing with my noisy roommate first thing after waking up, I left the tower. I grabbed some meat and an apple from the kitchen before heading up to the library to see if Dorian was around. I knew he was in the library well before I entered.

I could hear him shouting halfway up the stairs from the kitchen. By the time I reached the thankfully empty entrance hall I could recognize the other voice as Bryce’s. I almost collided with Solas leaving the library as I was going in. From the look in his eyes, I suspected he’d been rudely awakened by the argument.

“Do they do this often?”  
He scowled. “More often than Cassandra practices swordsmanship or Varric plays Wicked Grace. One does start to suspect something after a while.”  
I grinned. “And one’s probably right, not that it’s likely to happen.”  
“I hope it happens soon, maybe that would be quieter.”  
“I doubt it.”

He shook his head and walked off, probably hoping to find somewhere he could actually sleep. I slunk up the stairs. Dorian had his back to me and Bryce was so engrossed in the argument that I don’t think he noticed my arrival.  
“Why does it matter so much to you?!”  
“Corypheus represents everything that’s wrong with my homeland. Do you think I plan to just let him win? I want to help, even if it means I sit on the sidelines, watching, I need to be sure he doesn’t succeed. Corypheus must be stopped. I understand that you don’t trust mages, I understand that you’re no fan of Tevinter, but surely you need allies, haven’t I heard you say, `I need all the help I can get’? That _is_ what you tell all those people you got working for you, _isn’t_ it? All the people you personally recruit while you’re off picking flowers and collecting those Maker-damned gold mosaics? I spoke to the tranquil you’ve recruited, all of them act like you’re the nicest person around, in fact just about everyone who isn’t a mage seems to think you can do no wrong, and yet you treat every mage like shit. Which is the real you? Frankly, I find it hard to believe that you can really be a nice person when you thrash about like a caged dragon trying to destroy anything you don’t like even if we’re on your side. Do you _want_ me to leave?”

I almost thought Bryce was going to punch him. He kept flexing the fingers of one hand, curling them into a fist and then stretching them out again. He broke eye-contact with Dorian and exhaled slowly before he answered. Now I was glad I’d come up here. I’d known Bryce was volatile almost as readily as I knew it would ruin him if he ever hurt Dorian. If anyone else hurt Dorian, I’d kill them myself, if it was Bryce, I knew I wouldn’t have to. If they could both let go of their hate, I felt like they’d make a great pair, but I doubted that would ever happen. As it was, their paths seemed more likely to meet in a murder-suicide. I was glad I was here in case a fight did start, because I could stop it. They still didn’t notice me.

“No. I won’t kick you out.”  
“How generous of you! I—”  
“But don’t get any ideas! You can stay, you can help, but I don’t trust you, and I can’t take you with me anywhere until that changes. And if I so much as hear _rumors_ of blood magic—”  
Dorian’s eyes narrowed, “Oh, you don’t need to worry about that from _me_.”  
Bryce glared suspiciously, “Are you being sarcastic?”  
“Are you really so imbecilic that you think I would joke about that?!”  
Bryce’s fingers snapped into a fist and a vein twitched on his muscular arm. He made an exasperated sound halfway between a growl and a sigh and stormed off. He shouldered past me on his way down the stairs. It was lucky that I had anticipated him doing that or I wouldn’t have let him push me and the collision would have probably broken his shoulder. Dorian watched him leave and noticed me in the process. “Damn philistine. Are you alright?”  
“I’m fine.” I rested a hand on his upper arm. “Are you okay?”  
“Sorry. I suppose that became rather more heated than I’d expected.”  
“It’s fine. Solas might disagree, but I was already awake, on my way here to see you, actually.”  
“What is it?” Evidently, he thought I meant that I had a reason to see him.  
“Do I need a reason to see you?”  
He grinned, relaxing a bit now. “No. Sorry. To the tavern?”  
I shrugged. “If you want.”  
“It’s been that kind of day, again.”  
“Most days seem to have been that kind of day for you.”  
“Well, with him around...” He gestured in the direction Bryce had gone.  
“He isn’t really as bad as you think. Give him a chance.”  
“I’ve given him quite a few chances already. I’m afraid I’ve quite run out of chances to give.”  
“Don’t say that.” We started for the tavern.  
“No, really, my chance limit has been reached, at this point he’s just racking up points.”  
“Points?” He was already drunk, I realized that now.  
“Points. Points on the bigoted ass scale. Not to be confused with the `big ass’ scale, because that’s something quite different.” Damn, he was more drunk than I’d realized.  
“And how many points does Bryce have?”  
“Fifteen.”  
“Fifteen? So on par with most magisters, then?”  
“Oh, no, he’s well beyond magisters. They’re maybe at ten? Twelve, if you’re lucky, but only the _really_ old get to twelve. At that point, you have to reach new levels of bigotry. Bryce is just exceptionally asinine.”  
I chuckled, “Dorian, exactly how drunk are you?”  
He thought for a moment. “A bottle of brandy and two glasses of a fine Antivan merlot. Wait...three. No, six, it was definitely six.”  
“Six and a bottle of brandy? And you want to go drinking?”  
He gave me a look. “I seem to recall a certain seafaring qunari downing at least thirty tankards of ale in one sitting.”  
I grimaced. Okay, I was in no position to argue with him. But I could not tell him why alcohol didn’t effect me, or even that it didn’t. I sighed. “Alright. Just...take care of yourself, will you?”  
“I take perfectly good care of myself. Being well supplied with alcohol keeps me quite healthy.”

I sighed but said nothing.

We went to the tavern. Bull was there, of course, as were the Chargers, and I noticed Bryce hiding in a corner of the second floor. Dorian and I took up a table near the bar, a fair distance from Bull’s group. Varric showed up eventually and we played Wicked Grace until he turned in for the night. Dorian had managed to get even more drunk during that game and I’d had enough ale that I tried to act tipsy. With the dwarf gone, conversation became decidedly more personal. Although not as oblivious as the Hero of Ferelden, I had never been very skilled at noticing flirtations. I think Dorian had been flirting with me for over an hour after Varric left, but I didn’t notice until he really got blunt about it, either because I didn’t seem to notice or because he was too drunk for subtlety. I finally asked him about it directly.

“You’re flirting with me, aren’t you?”  
He gave me that wonderful grin that curled his mustache even more than usual. “I flirt with everyone. Haven’t you realized this by now?”  
I chuckled. “Well, yes, that much is obvious. I’m merely wondering if this is your standard sort of flirtation or if you actually mean something by it.”  
“Would you want it to mean something?” That joking tone vanished in an instant, now he was very seriously curious. He hung on my answer, and that made my mind go blank.  
“Uh...that depends, did you want it to mean something?”  
He tried to hide how serious he’d gotten there and gestured vaguely. “Now we’re just getting...mired up in all this. My answer depends on your answer, which depends on my answer, and so on.” He chuckled. “One of us had better answer or we’ll be stuck here all night.”  
I smiled peacefully, “Alright, since you don’t seem likely to speak first...” I took a deep breath and then sighed. “Truthfully, I like you. Probably more than I should. I don’t mind your flirting, I just...I am uncertain about your intentions. Because you do pretty much flirt with everyone.”  
He looked surprised, and then confused. “You like me... How exactly do you like me?”  
I sipped my ale. “...how do you think I like you?”  
He stared and then laughed. “I see we’ve gotten ourselves stuck again...”

I guess he gave up trying to get a straight answer because he changed the subject after that. The idea didn’t completely leave either of our minds. I wanted to be with him, but I wanted to be with Bryce as well and I had never been the most decisive person. Besides, I preferred not to risk a repeat of the night we’d made port or give him and Bryce any more reason to fight. Dorian kept flirting, I guess it was his way of subtly trying to find out my answer. I was too used to lying to have any trouble keeping a neutral response, and that saddened me.

Although I know that I showed no reaction, whether negative or positive, I do not know if Dorian perceived one, or thought he did. Dorian drank another two bottles of brandy until we both realized that he could no longer walk steadily enough to reach his quarters. Maybe I should have tried to stop him, but I wasn’t sure what to say. I didn’t realize quite how intoxicated he’d become until that point; I’d had seventeen tankards of ale in the time it took him to reach that level, but I still wasn’t even tipsy. I’d probably need something like a vat of whiskey to even come close, I supposed.

“Alright, I think you’ve had enough.” I got up and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, getting one of his arms over my own and lifting him to his feet. “Let’s get you to bed.”  
“Don’t even buy me dinner first?” I don’t know if he did it intentionally or if he was just too tired and drunk to hold his head up, but he spoke with his face half buried in my neck. I could feel his breath against my skin and his mustache tickled when he moved his lips. The hand of the arm over my shoulders started to slide down my back, but it caught against my wings. His fingers idly explored the shapes wrapped in the intentionally wrinkled hide. My wings were...sensitive. It unsettled me a little when he wrapped his hand gently around the thickest of the bones. It would have bothered me more if he’d grabbed the thin bones, the ones less wide than a finger and longer than some swords. I think that part of the reason my wings were so sensitive was because they were so fragile, but that probably wasn’t all the reason. There were practical reasons, of course, like that, but I was sure that there had to be at least one...less practical reason. Even if he wasn’t actively trying to, he was making it very difficult for me to stick with my decision not to get involved with him beyond friendship. He may as well have had his hand on my ass.

And he was about to make it a whole lot more difficult to resist him.

I chuckled awkwardly. “Not like that. It’s late. Unless you plan to skip sleep entirely, you might want a bed.”  
His free hand moved up to the one I had under his arms to hold him. He ran his fingers over my own. “I’m starting to think that you _do_ like me in the way that I thought you did earlier. You’re attracted to me, aren’t you? So what exactly happened that night we parted ways?”  
Oh, Maker damn it! I was really starting to hope he’d reached the point where he just wasn’t going to remember any of this in the morning, but somehow I doubted fate would be that convenient. “Things got awkward.”  
“Awkward? How so? Think we could try again?” We were halfway to his room by now and he was letting the hand on my wing slowly work it’s way downward. I could already guess where this was going. Granted, I was still smiling, and I was beginning to suspect that he knew I was interested as well as if he’d been a telepath himself, but this was something I really should not let happen.

We were nearly at the door when he kissed my neck. I halted. The hand on my wing stroked it’s way along the bone until he was nearly at my ass and at that point I could no longer resist. I kissed him, hard and passionate. I’d planned to go further but managed to stop myself. I broke the kiss and looked at him. He was so drunk it was almost impressive. He had his back against the doorway to balance and he tried to pull me forward with one hand on my hips and the other on my shoulder. He frowned up at me. “What is it?”  
I ran a hand over my face and sighed. “Dorian, you’re so drunk...”  
Dorian grinned. “I _am_. I quite like being drunk.”  
“Yes, but not as drunk as you are now, at least you shouldn’t.” More because his hands were already halfway to the right position, I took the hand from my shoulder in my own grip and got an arm behind his back to hold him. Considering I could nearly lift a dragon, on a good day, and he was so drunk he could barely stand, it was a simple matter to waltz him over to his bed.  
“You can dance?”  
“It’s not like I’ve been a sailor/hermit/mercenary all my life!”  
He chuckled and we sat down on the edge of the mattress. “I swear you manage to surprise me every day.”  
“I try.”  
He kissed me again and I almost pulled away. I did retreat when his fingers dropped to my crotch.  
“No.”  
When I’d stepped back so suddenly, he’d been halfway leaning against me, so the motion left him lying stretched out on the bed, once he shifted his legs up into a more comfortable position. “What is it now?”  
“You’re still drunk.” He quirked an eyebrow. “Are you even sure you want to do this?” He started to answer and I cut him off. “I mean, in the morning, when you aren’t completely smashed, is this actually something you’d want? I’m not okay with this, not while you’re completely inebriated, I mean, you can’t even stand right now!”  
He frowned. “Is that it? You’d rather do it standing?”  
I shook my head. Now that he was lying down on his stomach and not clinging to me, he wasn’t nearly so distracting. I found I could actually resist the temptation more easily. “That’s not the point. Let’s just...not. No. My answer is no.”

He seemed sad, but I tried not to look at his expression too closely. I rested against the footboard of the bed, not quite sitting. One learned how to perch on furniture when one had wings and a tail. I held one of his hands in both of mine and tried to focus on it while I looked at him in the hopes that I could fail to notice any emotion he was showing or anything he was about to say. “Dorian, just...get some rest.” I kissed his hand and left.

I was out the door and back to my tower before he had a chance to react. There may have been just a little magic involved in that speed. At this point, I felt like sleeping as well, and dawn was nearly upon us anyway. I stretched out on the furs I used as a bed and looked over at my feathered roommate. Two pairs of golden eyes stared at me from the darkness. My avian roommate perched on the edge of his ledge with a larger lump of feathers and face resting beside him. I grinned. “At least one of us got laid tonight.”


	9. Shadows of the Night

I didn’t emerge until the next night. One of the owls was still perched on the ledge, though I couldn’t be sure which one. I had no idea if Dorian remembered last night or how he would react if he did remember. I thought it was best if I kept my distance from him for now.  
I went to the tavern.

* * *

I needed a drink most nights now. Between leading the Inquisition, hiding my affair with Kai, and dealing with Dorian, I had more reason than most to hit the bottle. I’d never been a religious man, but I’d come damn close to praying Sera and Cassandra would keep their mouths shut about Kai being...whatever Kai was. He was hot as hell and he might even be interested in me romantically, but there was simply no way I could let myself get involved with a demon. That said, getting involved with a Tevinter mage was hardly a more appealing prospect.

I knew I was interested in him, that much was certain. I also didn’t trust him.

Dorian often came into my mind unbidden and my terrible desires would just generate these little fantasies about him, him and me. Tonight’s was particularly elaborate.  
It could start in the library, late some night, when I was awake and horny as usual and he was too involved in some book to sleep. Or maybe he had trouble sleeping. I wish I knew.

I’d walk up behind him and say something witty and seductive.

Maybe he’d be drunk or maybe he’d just be too lonely, and he’d respond in kind. I’d say something back, a bit more blunt, step a little closer and we’d kiss. My lips caressed the rim of the bottle I was drinking from. I didn’t realize I was doing that and the taste of cheap ale only served to make my fantasy more vivid.

I’d touch him, run my hands lower, work at clasps, buttons, ties, somehow get that ridiculous outfit off of him. My mind filled in every inch of that beautiful cinnamon skin and muscle.

“You know, there are a lot of people who’d pay big money to be that bottle.”

I noticed suddenly that my unfocused stare had found a face, one entirely different from the one I’d been picturing. Kai grinned at me, that unnervingly knowing smirk that made me want to punch him. “What?!”

* * *

Bryce thunked his legs down off the chair in front of him and raised his hands as if he had nothing to hide. I knew better, but I wasn’t so dumb as to say that. He’d had his mouth completely around that bottle, been sucking at it, licking, the kind of stuff that really got me going. I grinned and lowered my gaze submissively. “You just looked very happy. You were thinking about someone, and I don’t mean a just friend.”  
He blushed. “I was not! I was...I was thinking about cake. You know. Those little Orlesian cakes with the berry filling and the...the things? I was hungry. I was just hungry, alright?”

* * *

Kai raised an eyebrow at me. Damn him. What kind of fucking blood magic let him read my mind like that? “If you were thinking about cakes, you’re more messed up than I thought...” He nodded at the bulge where my pants covered up a very obvious erection. I knew he nearly laughed when I hunched forward and folded my arms to hide it. “Keep thinking about those cakes, Bryce, Maker knows you could use some fun.”

* * *

I walked off smiling. I was in the same state he was, really, I couldn’t watch what he was doing to that bottle without becoming at least a little aroused. I wasn’t as obvious as Bryce, but I was a little bit hard; it would be back to normal soon enough. I was more hungry than horny. I slunk through the kitchen and walked the parapets as I ate, studying the stars in the cold and quiet night. The next evening found me in the tavern again.

I spent most of my time there when I wasn’t asleep or walking under the open sky. Most times I talked or listened. Sometimes I wrote. Tonight I drew. Cole was not upstairs and Bryce was elsewhere too. Bull was there, as were the Chargers, of course, but I wasn’t in the mood for drinking tonight. I only had so much tolerance for the boisterous atmosphere of that group, I preferred to observe than to interact, for the most part. Interaction wore me out, listening didn’t, and tonight I felt like being quiet.

I took up a seat in the corner, across from Sera’s little cubby hole, wings and tail hanging off the back of the barrel I was sitting on, hidden in the folds of my white dragon-scale cloak. I had my legs crossed beneath me. The big old boots I always wore had been patched so much over the years that little of the original shape remained; they looked more like lumpy masses of leather than shoes and that was just the way I liked them. I had my sketchbook on my lap, black leather with high-quality paper. I’d been trying not to use my abilities around here, especially with Cole running about. I could go unnoticed well enough just by keeping my normal hours and staying out of the way, I didn’t need to use my magic to hide.

I sensed Dorian well before I saw him. I was sitting in a corner of the room, my back against two walls, and he came up beside me.  
“I have your coats, by the way.”  
I glanced up, left hand still shading. “Keep them, if you want.”  
“Those hideous things? What blighted demon-spawn did you skin to make those, anyway?”  
I chuckled and stopped sketching, “Glad you like them so much. They’re bear hide, although I admit they probably could be cleaner and I’m not the best tailor.”  
“Not the best tailor?! Those pungent amalgamations of shaggy detritus can hardly be considered tailored— or clean!” He smiled. “Thank you.”  
“I remembered how much you’d said you hate the cold. Besides, it was rather obvious when I saw you that night.”  
He frowned. “Didn’t you also claim to hate the cold?”  
I gestured dismissively. “I had another coat.”  
“Yes. What exactly happened to that one?”  
“Dragon.”  
He stared. “`Dragon’? No further explanation, just `dragon’?”  
“A big one. We were in the Western Approach, she went for Bryce. It was an Abyssal High Dragon, one of the smaller ones I’d seen, actually, and my coat didn’t survive the encounter.”  
“Ah, so they are alive, although I’m afraid the ones you lent me might have died of neglect, judging by the smell.” He leaned against the wall beside me. “Frankly, I’m surprised your coat is the only thing that didn’t make it. You’ve seen many dragons?”  
I chuckled, now focused on him to the point that I all but forgot my drawing. “I’ve fought many dragons. This new coat is courtesy of that last one, although she was a bit young, so the scales aren’t quite as hard as I would have liked.”  
“Sailor, mercenary, hermit, dragon slayer, is there anything you haven’t done?”  
He meant it as a light hearted remark, but it made me bittersweet and I’m pretty sure he could tell. “Not much.”

There was an awkward pause and he sought a less painful conversation topic. “So...artist is also in that list?” He nodded at the sketchbook, only taking a close look at it now.  
“Yeah, one of the few I keep coming back to, actually.” I sat back and angled it so he could get a better look. I could tell that his initial intention had just been to change the subject, and that was followed by mild interest, which was quickly replaced by a genuine fascination.

“The style is very Tevinter...that’s an Old God, isn’t it?” I nodded, curious to see how much he could identify of it. The composition featured a large dragon somewhat curled around a symbol so heavily stylized that it could no longer be identified as a horned owl with a crescent moon framing its round face. Dorian pointed to the symbol. “The mark of Lusacan, so this is the Dragon of the Night?”  
I nodded again. “Yes. I was uncertain how readily you would recognize it.”  
“You draw all the Old Gods, or just the ones who haven’t already risen as Archdemons?”

* * *

I hadn’t expected it and I can’t even begin to guess at why he felt that way, but when I said that, Qy looked distinctly sad. He put up a good show of calm, despite that. “I’ve drawn all of them at some time or another. I just draw Lusacan the most, I have...quite the affinity for the Dragon of the Night.”  
That was a little alarming, particularly with the charming smirk he developed by the end of that statement. “What exactly draws you to the god of the night? He is pretty much a deity of death, you are aware of that, yes?”  
“Yes. He’s a deity of death, but it’s been somewhat misinterpreted in recent times. Lusacan was a deity of death and the apocalypse, but not necessarily destruction. It’s more that everything has a natural end, just as it has a beginning and less that everything should be destroyed. He’s more a deity of death as a peaceful passing into sleep than a deity of death as a brutal and violent end.”  
I stared. “Well, that’s news to me, is another of your many professions Tevinter theologist?”  
“I’ve read a lot of books. I speak ancient Tevene. And ancient Elven, for that matter.”  
Now I just felt inadequate. “Is there anything you’re not good at?”  
He grinned a bit sadly, his mood snapping back from happy. He didn’t answer my question. “Lusacan isn’t just a god of death, he was also considered the record-keeper of the Old Gods, as much as one can be. It was said that he arranged the stars to tell ancient stories.”

* * *

He frowned at that, apparently realizing something. “It never occurred to me to ask, but you aren’t Andrastian, are you?”  
“No. Why did that occur to you now?”  
“Do you worship the Old Gods?”  
I hesitated, sighed, and shrugged. “My philosophy on religion is I don’t know. I can’t know. I don’t believe anyone can.”  
“The point isn’t about what you can know for certain, it’s about faith. At least that’s how I feel, I may well be wrong in most others’ eyes.”  
I shrugged again. “Perhaps it is. I suppose if I had to choose a religion, perhaps I do worship the Old Gods. I am certain that they exist in some form, whether or not they are gods.”  
“Well, Archdemons are a bit hard to ignore. You can’t just tell them, `go away, I don’t believe in you’ and have them leave, they’d just roll right through your town with their Blight.”

* * *

He nodded, but now he looked even sadder than before.  
“Sorry. Did you lose someone to the Blight?”  
He bobbled his head a bit uncertainly and the motion reminded me again that he wasn’t human. Those horns were a little unsettling when the light gleamed off them like that.

I dropped the subject but before I found a new one, he spoke up.  
“Where do you think I’m from?”

* * *

He stared and then frowned. “Seheron?”  
I shook my head. I was probably grinning a little although I tried not to. Frankly, I was a little surprised he hadn’t heard through rumor. “I was born in Tevinter, just east of Qarinus, actually.”  
Now he stared in shock. “Wait...you’re from Qarinus? Did we meet before...?”  
I shook my head. “I doubt it. If we did, I’m afraid I don’t remember.”  
“Shame.”

We lapsed into silence again, so I started to search for a change of subject and he saved me the trouble.  
“I still have your coats. Dragon scale doesn’t look especially warm, why don’t we go get them?”

I knew what he was really suggesting, and I didn’t want to mislead him, but if I followed him I could tell him part of the truth in private. “Okay.”  
When we got to his room, he pushed me against the wall and kissed me. I let him. I let him go further than that, too. We parted our lips and let our tongues explore each other’s mouths. He ran his hand over my chest and I mimicked the gesture, tracing the contours of his own muscles. His tight clothes made it easy; my thick leather coat and many-layered wool robes kept my body an enigma. I had hoped he’d move downward. I’d hoped he’d grab my rear, stroke the front of my pants, or maybe even just slide his hand inside. If he’d just slid my cock out, I would have had sex with him. If he’d left my clothes on, I had no problem going all out, because he wouldn’t find out about any of it. He wouldn’t ask questions if he didn’t know I wasn’t normal. It wasn’t even that he want for my pants, because then I might have convinced myself that he could fail to notice. I could hide my tail in the leather of my long coat and he might just miss the rest, but no. Dorian’s hands wandered upward and he started to unbutton my dragon-scale coat. I caught his wrists and broke the kiss. “No. I....I can’t do this.”  
Dorian frowned, “Why?” Curiosity got the better of me again and I read his mind.

He didn’t remember the last night after the ship, but he did remember the night at Skyhold when he’d been very drunk and I’d refused him, and he suspected what must have happened after our journey together. He could almost remember the start of it. It had begun quite similarly to this current experience, with him kissing me and hands starting to wander. He couldn’t remember the rest, or what had preceded that bit. He wasn’t entirely right. He thought it had been bad, or maybe that I’d been previously raped. That was far from the case on both counts.

I shook my head and pulled my coat a bit tighter around me, stepping back from him. “I...for one thing....I’m...I’m involved with someone else. I don’t know exactly how serious he wants that to be. Sorry.” It wasn’t the whole truth, but it was part of it. If Bryce wanted an exclusive relationship, then I would have to decide.  
He nodded slowly, accepting that. “...right. That’s...understandable.”  
“If that changes, you’ll be the first to know.” I’d completely forgotten about my coats, I think we both had. I started to leave.  
“Might I ask who it is?”  
I hesitated, halfway out the door. I stepped back inside for a moment so I could close it most of the way. “He’s not exactly open about his...interests.”  
Dorian nodded. Now the situation was throughly awkward because I paused before I left, waiting in case he had something else to ask. We parted ways for the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Sorry, I can't resist song-title chapter names. XD )


	10. Raven in the Storm

I stopped back by my tower, discovering that the female owl had laid and egg as she stood to change the way she was sitting on it.  The male sat beside her, watching me as if I should mind my own business.  That concerned stare along with my own affinity for walking beneath the night sky drove me to wander Skyhold for the rest of the night.  I still wasn’t very in the mood for conversation, so I avoided anyone else awake at this hour, or at least I tried to.  My earlier conversation with Dorian had gotten me fixated on my past, on the Old Gods, and on the current state of Tevinter.  Those were all things that I normally tried to forget.  Between those thoughts and my usual insomnia, I found myself roaming the castle into the early morning.  Unfortunately, as my exhaustion finally convinced me to return to my tower and try to sleep, I encountered the early risers and one of them sought me out.  

“Master qunari?”  The chantry sister had approached me, and not the one I knew by name.  “I have news regarding your Tevinter friend.”

I like to think that despite my exhaustion and discomfort with her motherly nature, I managed to seem convincingly friendly in my greeting.  “Yes?  What is it?”

At first I was worried, but that worry boiled as soon as it sank into the pit of my stomach because of what she said next.  “I have been in contact with his family, house Pavus out of Qarinus, are you familiar with them?”

I know my eyes turned a deep crimson at those words and it was all I could do to keep my voice level.  I answered with a lethal calm, my voice dropping until it was hardly more than a whisper.  “Yes, were you contacted by his mother or his father?”

She shuddered visibly.  “B-both, I believe.  I meant no ill-feelings, his father sent a letter, describing their estrangement with their son and requesting my aid.  They wish to arrange a meeting without his knowledge, they fear it is the only way he will attend.  Since you seem to be on good terms with the young man, I had hoped—”

I had barely contained myself to that point.  My ability to distance myself came in handy only so far as it allowed me to keep my body perfectly still and contain my magic as my rage erupted to an inferno within me.  When I spoke, all that fury seethed in my voice.  I had once routed armies with a word and that full authority permeated the words I spoke now.  Even without the faint hint of magic that escaped to heat the air around me, my acrimony permeated the very words I spoke.  “Dorian’s father has lost any right he has to his son!  For what he did, his execution would be well deserved; luring Dorian to this meeting would achieve the very pinnacle of betrayal, I would not be surprised if the man sought to further torment his own son.  I will have no part of this!  If Dorian wishes this ill-advised meeting, it would be a legendary mercy, and I will personally defend him should his father ever have the gall to seek him out here!  That man is the greatest anathema I have heard of in all my long years,—”  For two and a half sentences more, I scorned the man in ancient Tevene, fast devolving into profanity before I calmed enough to notice the mortal terror in the eyes of the Chantry sister.  She was nearly in tears.  

I blinked, letting my irises gradually shift back to their more neutral lavender hue.  I had hoped to calm myself and then the woman, but when I opened my eyes, she had fled.  The main hall was nearly empty, not that it had been bustling before.  I had not screamed; the entire tirade had been uttered quite softly, including the profanity, it was the sheer vehemence of my tone, and, no-doubt, the loathing on my face that served to so frighten the poor woman.  

Varric must have arrived at some point during my outburst.  He approached me now that I looked decently calm again.  “What _was_ that?”

“Nothing.  Sorry.”  I started towards my tower again and he stopped me.  He would probably have caught my upper arm, if he could reach it, but instead he rested a hand against my knee to halt my motion.  

“Are you alright?”

I nodded, after a moment.  “Bad memories.  And it involves a private matter.”  Neither of which were mine, but he didn’t need to know that.

“Alright, I didn’t mean to pry.”  He raised his hands in surrender and walked away.  

I found the owls asleep when I returned and they eyed me indignantly at my intrusion.  I ignored them and lay down.  For a change, I fell asleep as soon as I closed my eyes.  

I awoke to a sharp pain in the back of my skull and sat up with a snarled curse in ancient Tevene.  

“You’re alive!”

“Of course I’m alive.”  I opened my eyes to a punch narrowly missing my face to hit the wall behind me.  It was followed by stifled cursing.  Bryce had restrained himself from punching my by redirecting the strike, the downside was that he’d redirected it into a stone wall that had stood for uncounted years.  He cradled his bleeding fist and paced for a few seconds, calming down.  

“I thought you were fucking dead, Kai.  Don’t do that to me.”

I stretched and stood, flexing my wings casually.  “Sorry, I’m a deep sleeper, I can’t help it.”

He scowled at me.  “You weren’t asleep, Kai.  You were fucking _dead_.  You had no pulse.  you weren’t breathing.  I had to roll you off the fucking ledge to wake you up!”  

I looked up, only realizing now why I was so sore.  The ledge where I’d set up my bed of furs was over ten feet above my head.  “...oh.”

“What the fuck are you, Kai?”

I folded my wings and carefully got dressed as I answered.  “I mean you no harm and I am not a demon.”

He glared.  “You won’t even fucking tell me?!”

I met his gaze calmly.  “I _can’t_ tell you any more than that.  I saved your life.  _Twice_.  Have I done anything to make you question my intentions?”

He sighed.  I had myself dressed before I realized it was still early morning.  At that point I waited, hoping Bryce had come here for some reason other than waking me up with next to no sleep.  As it turned out, he had.  

“We’re heading to Redcliffe,” Bryce explained, regaining his ephemeral composure.  “A bunch of us are going and I was hoping you’d join us.”

“Alright.  You have the same horse for me as last time, right?”

He looked mildly suspicious.  “Probably.  I can check, if you want me to.”

“If it isn’t too much trouble, I’d appreciate it.”

He let me get ready, heading off to check on the horses.  I hardly needed the time.  I was packed momentarily and followed him out.  

I needn’t have worried; the horse was the same big stallion.  Cassandra was already waiting, mounted, near the stables.  Her mare pawed the dirt as I approached, remembering my scent and what I had done to it.  Most mages manipulated magic externally, so even if they used their own blood for blood magic, they had to cut themselves first.  My magic came from within my body, giving me the dubious talent of being able to use my own blood to fuel my spells without any visible signs of what I was doing.  I had the distinct sense, however, that I could also have drawn on the life energy of the animals themselves to fuel a spell to make them docile.  If I had ever known how I could do that, I did not recall the reason, but I could guess at the general cause for that power.  

The spell to calm the other horses had been temporary, but on the stallion that I rode, it had been permanent.  He would never fear me or any that might be mistaken for my kind, an unfortunate side effect should he ever face such a beast.  I mounted easily and waited nominally beside Cassandra, although she moved to keep a good thirty feet between us.  Our horses flanked the open gate, hers prancing nervously and mine almost eerily statuesque.  Bryce’s stallion waited among the other saddled steeds, also frightened of me, and near it stood a decently sized buckskin pony and an elegant white courser with dark markings on his face.  Those horses were confused.  They saw the unnatural calm of my own mount and the tempered terror of those that had acclimated to my presence, but their instincts screamed to flee.  The pony snorted and tugged its lead, pulling back towards the stable while the high-strung courser outright reared and shrieked, reacting just as badly as the others had before.  I wouldn’t risk blood magic, fearing that this was Vivienne’s stallion, or at least that a mage might arrive at any moment and recognize what I would be doing.  

As it happened, a mage did arrive just then, but none of the ones I was expecting.  Dorian emerged from Skyhold, clearly as exhausted as I was but for once he wasn’t hungover.  Varric walked beside him, also yawning but seemingly well-rested.  I presumed that Bryce had sent him to recruit the mage for this little escapade.  I had no interest in our plans once there, and that turned out to be a great oversight on my part.  I never asked, either.  

As I had suspected seeing them approach, Dorian and Varric got on the horse and pony respectively, calming the animals with some help from the handlers.  It wasn’t difficult to guess the source of their fear, even if the reason evaded them.  Apparently, neither of them had noticed me until they followed the animal’s wide-eyed stares.  

“Qy?”  Dorian yawned and frowned.  

I preempted his question.  “Most animals are not very fond of me.”  I urged my horse slowly forward, hoping the handler and Dorian could keep his mount still.  They couldn’t keep it calm, I saw the panicked horse quake as I neared, but it locked its legs rather than bolting.  Dorian seemed grateful for that.  Up close I could really see how exhausted he looked and wondered if I looked the same.  I must have gotten an hour of sleep at most.  “You okay to ride?”

He nodded blearily.  “After having rushed to Haven ahead of the mages a few weeks ago, this is nothing.  At least we aren’t currently under attack.”

I snorted and nodded, too tired to laugh with any real enthusiasm.  

He seemed to realize that we were pretty sleepy as well.  “Are _you_ alright?”

I nodded vaguely, “I can sleep in the saddle, if it comes to that.”

“Oh, yeah,” Varric broke in, “I overheard Sera raving about that at the tavern.  The way she talks about it, you’re some kind of demon for being able to do that, or at least I think that was the gist of it all.”

I grinned a bit weakly.  “She was rather baffled by it.”

Bryce finally showed up at that point and we got going.  I half expected that we’d need to break to rest, or have Dorian ride behind someone so he didn’t just collapse, but somehow he made it to camp that first night.  Redcliffe wasn’t too far.  We rode a bit past dusk and reached a town just outside the Hinterlands.  We’d continue on foot the next day so the horses would be well-rested for the return trip.  


	11. Folly and Pride

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Might just switch between songs and not songs for chapter titles, although I considered "Thunderstruck."

I slept with Bryce that night, of course.  We stayed in an inn.  Cassandra had a room to herself, Dorian and Varric shared the only room that had two beds, and Bryce and I agreed to share the final room, which only had one bed, although of course Bryce put up quite a show of reluctance.  I was starting to wonder if Dorian suspected the truth between me and the Inquisitor, but I didn’t invade his mind to be sure.  Curiosity about something else got the better of me the next morning.  I knew for a fact that the inn had thick walls because none of the others, including the innkeeper himself, had heard us last night.  Luckily.  

Everyone slept well and we set out wide-awake the next morning.  The dew-laden grass glittered in the golden light that filtered through the trees.  I scarcely recalled the last time I had been here, but still something about the crisp note to the fresh air and the birds calling in the early morning fog felt like home.  I had grown up on a wind-swept northern shore perpetually washed in the smell of salty waves, nothing like this forest at all.  I suppose I must have simply traveled so much that I felt at home wherever I went.  

I found it difficult to be social before noon, so I mostly listened as the others, mainly Varric and Dorian, chatted along the way.  

In a quiet moment, Cassandra looked around at us all.  “Is that... perfume?”

*      *       *

I sniffed the air self-consciously and glimpsed Dorian frowning as he did the same.  Kai, walking ahead of us all, apparently didn’t notice our reactions as he answered softly, “I like it.”

That surprised me.  It probably shouldn’t have, but I wasn’t really in the habit of smelling those around me, even people I was sleeping with.  Or maybe this was a new thing with him, I could never tell.  Although if he was wearing perfume, I probably smelled of it as well...

Dorian laughed, “Ah, good.  Here I thought the scented soaps I bought might smell too strongly of roses...”

I guess my self-consciousness must have showed, because Varric, walking beside me, sniffed the air and mused, “Am I the only one here who doesn’t smell like a garden?”

Cassandra started to rebuke him but fell silent, apparently not wanting to admit that he was right and, for a change, she was actually wearing perfume today.  She had felt like being a bit more feminine than usual.  

*       *       *

Aside from conversation, things went very smoothly that morning.  As entertaining as a repeating crossbow was, Bianca was hardly effective against anything we ran into, but Varric’s company made up for his severe lack of helpfulness in combat.  Bryce and Cassandra could be decently useful if they could reach anything that attacked us, but out in the Hinterlands, neither they nor I hardly ever got the chance.  By far the most effective member of our little group was Dorian.  The two of us worked as an inadvertent team with my keen senses spotting any threats well before they got close and him blasting them with lightning or flame.  Few attackers even survived the initial assault, so our default strategy seemed more than sufficient.  

I don’t deny that we might have gotten a little complacent by the time we stopped for lunch a little beyond the crossroads.  

Cassandra had kept her distance from me in the same way that Bryce avoided Dorian.  Thus polarized, the four of us orbited Varric for much of the journey.  Seemingly oblivious to the arrangement, Dorian approached me during lunch, prompting Bryce to relocate to a bench-shaped rock near Cassandra, where Varric was eating as he pondered his next book.  I hadn’t been conversing with Bryce or anything, he hadn’t even been sitting very close to me, he just got up when he saw Dorian and acted like he had something to tell Varric.  He struck up a conversation once he was over there and Cassandra half-heartedly joined in.  

Dorian sat beside me.  I didn’t often eat in public and today was no exception.  I had scarfed down a single small turnip and then contented myself to staring around the forest.  I planned to hunt late tonight, and that would sustain me well enough for the next week.  

“Do you ever eat?”

I blinked at him.  “I eat often enough.”

“Oh?  How is it that I have never seen you eat even once since we met?”

I grinned wryly.  “You have.  Apparently you were too drunk to recall.  I didn’t eat on the ship because I was seasick, like you, I just know how to handle it better.”

“Yes.  Thank you for the help, by the way, that was...grueling.”

“Yes.  Remind me never to sail during storm season, if I can avoid it.”

“I hardly think you need a reminder after that voyage.”  He chuckled and then frowned.  “Still, that was...not a short trip, surely you ate something?”

I shook my head.  “Only on the first day.  It was a mistake.  I can do pretty well without food, but I don’t recommend it.  I’ve had lots of practice skipping meals.”

He gave me an odd look.  “Were you...were you a slave, back in Tevinter?”

The question surprised me and it must have showed.  “Not at all.”

He raised an eyebrow, about to ask for more detail and I changed the subject.  “Since the ship, you haven’t exactly been with me constantly, I eat when you aren’t there.”

“True enough, I suppose.  I haven’t really spent that much time around you at Skyhold, relatively speaking.  I probably end up spending longer arguing with Bryce.”  He shot me a devilish grin, “We should change that.”

I must have showed my reluctance, because he clarified, “Not to ruin a good thing, but frankly if you’re with who I think you’re with, I doubt that will end well, and...even if we can’t be more than friends... I would very much like to be friends with you.”

I didn’t know what to say, but I almost felt like the crux of my fate hung on my response.  

Fate denied me the chance to answer.  

With a crack, a Fade rift opened above the center of our clustered group.  

“Demons!”

Already on edge, Cassandra had her sword in hand instantly and Bryce followed within that same second.  Dorian grabbed his staff and Varric had to scramble for his crossbow.  I had never been able to react quickly.  It might be some side-effect of what I was that somehow my thoughts couldn’t reach my body quite as quickly, but whatever the reason, I stood slowly and by the time I even began to reach for my axe and turn around, a demon was upon me.  There were half a dozen of them, one rage, one shade, three greater terrors, and one towering, thunderous pride demon.  The rift had dropped them between us.  Bryce and Cassandra flanked the pride demon and the shade went for them, they failed to notice at least one of the three towering terrors.  The rage demon, having arrived closest to me, raked its fiery claws across my coat before I even saw it.  That attack was the last mistake it made.  The claws didn’t even scratch the steely surface of the scales.  The demon blazed with fire, which washed over me after the initial attack.  It singed my clothes but nothing more, although the crimson flames seemed to tint my eyes an intense magenta.  I cleaved into it while Bryce and Cassandra kept the pride demon at bay and Dorian’s first lightning bolt obliterated the shade.  

“Watch the terrors!” Varric warned as the rage demon dissolved to ash.  He shot a bolt that struck the pride demon’s horns, a glancing blow.  I turned towards the terrors as they clawed the ground and teleported.  

I saw the viridian glow around my own feet and then Cassandra’s before I noticed the one beneath Dorian.  The first terror sprang from beneath Cassandra, flinging her backwards and letting the pride demon strike her with the full brunt of its electricity.  Out of the corner of my eye I saw the portal beneath Dorian and started to shout as the slender creature emerged.  I heard him yelp and when I turned I saw that the demon had pinned him to the ground.  Those blade-like fingers dripped with blood; it had already slashed a deep wound in his chest and showed no sign of relenting.  My eyes flicked to red so dark that my irises almost disappeared into the ebony of my scleras.  My outraged shrieked merged with and nearly drown out Bryce’s cry of fury.  Demon, dwarf, and human, everyone who hadn’t heard that sound before stared at me, including the terror looming above Dorian.  That shock sealed its fate.  

Charging across the clearing, Bryce struck the demon at the same time that I did as we leapt over Dorian.  The terror that had chosen to target me swiped and tore the very edge of my wings, and injury I didn’t even notice at the time.  I had my teeth in the other terror’s arm like a rabid mabari, crushing the bone to smithereens and jerking my head to the side instinctively.  Bryce had his sword through the demon’s gut and brought it down, cracking against the monster’s pelvis as I rammed my gloved arm upward in what might have been mistaken for a palm strike.  My intention resolved as my fingers found the beast’s eyes.  They hit and plunged inward, the lethal talons on my fingertips shredding the stitched leather and sinking into the thing’s brain.  The force of the blow not only broke the terror’s neck but shattered its spine, snapping it backwards like a sapling in a hurricane and freeing Bryce’s sword from the mutilated remains of its abdomen.  Without a second thought, he ripped it free and stooped so his steel tower shield completely sheltered himself and Dorian.  He was making sure the mage was alright and if my own thoughts had not been consumed in conflagrant fury, I would have done the same.  The terror demon that had tried to teleport beneath me caught up and tried to pounce me to the ground.  I was well aware of it when it leapt, however.  My tail caught it in midair and flung the spindly creature aside, smacking it into a nearby tree.  I remembered the axe in my left hand, but felt no need of it anymore.  Now this was personal.  I would end these monsters unarmed, feel the spark of their lives go out by my own claws and taste their cooling blood.  

I let the demon stand once more and tossed my head like a bull waiting to charge.  It tried to teleport.  The instant those fingers tore the soil I rushed forward.  My horn pierced its throat and skull and smashed through to shatter a tree.  

I had made the mistake of forgetting the pride demon.  Not that the others had ignored my inhuman shriek, but only the most powerful guessed the truth of what I was.  In my current state my telepathy was left unrestrained and I knew the minds of everyone around me, although I never looked to closely at my allies’ in combat.  This pride demon saw what I seemed to be, but guessed what I really was.  He feared me, and rightly so.  But of course, he refused to see that he was truly outmatched.  He hoped that my state reduced my power, and it did, but not enough.  

But I was arrogant as well, arrogant enough to believe that I could take revenge at my own leisure, slaying each demon in turn and leaving the toughest for last.  The pride demon hit me with a backhand like a lunging dragon, flinging me fifty feet through the air to strike and shatter an ancient pine.  I dropped to the ground.  

*       *        *

I watched Kai get swatted.  Was this a common thing with him?  Even against the dragon, I hadn’t seen him fight like that and I worried what it meant.  I had reason to be outraged, even if I tried to hide it, but Kai...  And he still wouldn’t even tell me what exactly he was.  I sheltered Dorian beneath my shield, feeling ice in my heart at how still and pale he looked beneath the blood soaking his face, hair, and carmine robes.  I hoped he was only unconscious.  

Varric had slain the third terror with Cassandra’s help, at the cost of his own safety.  He was alive, but a gash along his upper right arm left him unable to hold Bianca steady; he was out of the fight.  Barely slaying the terror in time, a surge of lightning that had almost looked like an afterthought had left Cassandra out cold as the pride demon moved on to Kai.  

The demon turned to me and loosed one of those horrifyingly cruel laughs as it started towards us.  I readied my sword, trusting that Kai was not out of this yet, and that trust was not misplaced.  

He got the demon’s attention with another cry, this one no piercing shriek but a roar.  I couldn’t even guess how he mimicked it if not by magic, but from Kai’s throat emanated a perfect replica of the awful roar of the archdemon that had destroyed Haven.  He had shrugged off his coat and spread his wings to their full length.  His shirts had gotten torn until they’d fallen off of him, leaving his muscular chest bared.  He had some kind of fancy gold necklace and a more intricate black one as well as a long and jagged glowing green scar along the center of his ribcage.  The black of his eyes had spread until it licked out from the sockets in gossamer curls of shadow.  I think he might have managed to intimidate even Corypheus himself at that point.  The demon turned back to face him.  

Kai snarled something in a language I couldn’t understand and the demon growled a reply.  They flew at each other.  The fight went so fast I couldn’t follow a single strike.  Claws and horns and blood flew every which way, and then lighting, and then one massive, deafening burst of white fire.  

For several seconds, Kai and the demon stood facing each other, both perfectly still, and then both collapsed.  

The demon body disintegrated and I rushed to Kai’s side.  His body was bloody, but none of his wounds looked serious.  He’d torn his wings and beneath his tattered clothes, he had cuts all over, but nothing deep.  Still, he was in the same state I’d found him in when he was asleep the other day.  He had no pulse, no breath, nothing to distinguish him from a corpse.  And Dorian had a hole clawed in his chest, baring broken ribs and a bloody mess that I didn’t know enough to identify.  It could have been his heart, for all I knew.  I couldn’t lose them both at once.  Varric, the only one left standing, walked over.  He’d bound his arm in a bandage from his pack and drank a healing potion.  

He looked at me, for once at a loss for words.  


	12. Hidden in the Dark

Cassandra was back on her feet a few seconds later, though she was a bit shaky.  A demon whip of lightning would do that to you.  Bryce sent me to the crossroads for help, because the dwarf was clearly a better choice than either long-legged human for that task.  We both we’d stay there for the night and hopefully recover.  It didn’t sound like we were here for anything too complicated, but on the off chance it was a trap, I guess Bryce wanted to be safe.  As far as I knew at the time, Kai was dead, and Dorian didn’t look much better, but I got healers anyway.  After everything Bryce had already done to help them, half the camp rushed back ahead of me, bringing everything they could to help.  By the time I was back at the clearing, they had their hands full.  One of the mages sat beside the very tense Seeker on the bench-shaped rock.  Cassandra was still visibly shaken and I got the sense that she wasn’t feeling great either.  The mage kept trying to get her to relax so he could help her and I got the gist that she kept stubbornly urging him to help the others first.  A crowd had gathered around the place where Dorian lay.  Some were healers, some were mages, some were just normal folks trying to help any way they could; they were trying to save him.  I guess in all the commotion, they hadn’t noticed my arm.  It wasn’t that bad by comparison.  

Bryce sat beside Kai, completely unharmed despite the blood and gore that patterned his armor.  He seemed to have a knack for surviving dangerous situations, more-so even than Hawke.  A captain and a healer stood beside him, gesturing to Kai and trying to convince the armored man that his friend was dead.  Bryce looked more haunted than almost anyone I’d ever seen, and having been at Kirkwall, that was really saying something.  I’m not really sure he heard most of what they were saying and he didn’t respond until they started to wrap Kai in a cloth to take him away to be cremated.  

Bryce stood so quickly that his armor clanged together, startling both the healer and the captain.  “No.  Leave him.”  I’m pretty sure they would have protested if he hadn’t looked like he was about to kill something.  They dropped the cloth and backed away from him nervously.  Bryce stooped and pulled it away from Kai’s face almost reverently.  He sat back down and stared at the body.  

I walked over and sat beside him.  “Bryce...”

He shook his head, apparently figuring out what I hoped to say from my tone.  “He’s done this before.  Sometimes he seems dead, but isn’t.”

“Bryce...”

Another shake of the head.  He had a definite temper and for a second I thought I was about to see that, and then he sighed.  His shoulders sagged and he seemed so much more helpless than The Herald of Andraste or The Inquisitor.  “N...not now.  I....I can’t.”  He looked over to the mob trying to save Dorian and I finally understood why they really fought so much.  

I had no words that seemed right.  

At sunset, the healers carried Dorian back to town and the rest of us followed, including Bryce, who struggled to carry Kai with him and refused help when anyone offered.  They gave us a cabin for the night and set up cots.  As much as she acted like she was fine, Cassandra wasn’t; her body was exhausted and she fell asleep as soon as she lay down.  The healers set Dorian on the cot nearest the wall and kept at least one of their number in the room to watch him.  I liked to think that was for his safety, but wouldn’t be surprised if it was for theirs after everything Tevinter mages had put them through.  He was still out cold, but they’d bandaged his chest and said that as long as he made it through the night, he should recover.  The main thing was that somehow they couldn’t quite tell what had been shredded beneath the ribs or how badly it was cut.  The wound might be shallow or some of the cuts may have gone very deep, they couldn’t risk digging around to find out.  At least he was breathing right now.  

To be honest, Bryce worried me more.  He’d brought Kai inside, set him up on the cot beside Dorian’s and now he sat against the wall, alternating stares between them and looking anguished.  I lay down on my own cot to keep an eye on him, but soon fell asleep.  

*      *      *

Awareness eased back to my mind like dripping molasses.  I felt my body, my aching muscles, the sting along the torn edges of my wings, my tail bruised where it had struck the demon.  I had overextended myself.  The fireball I had created, coupled with all the magic I had already used had been too much, my spirit had become to weak to maintain my body.  I had no idea how long I had been essentially dead.  

The hunger surged in like a tidal wave.  I hadn’t eaten significantly in over a week, which I often did, but with my spiritual self so weakened I could no longer sustain myself solely through the energy of the fade.  I had to hunt.  

Instinct made me scent the air even as I opened my eyes and let them adjust to the darkness of the room.  I smelled my friends, easily recognizing them and noting another human present as well as an alarming abundance of blood.  I smelled an apple in one person’s pack and a bit of bread in another’s, but that was insignificant.  There was no prey here, and I needed a large meal, not a vegetarian snack.  I slid my wings off the cot, sat up, and stood.  

“Qy?”

I had thought that everyone was asleep, but I was mistaken.  Varric slept soundly on a cot beside me, Bryce seemed to have passed out in the corner, Cassandra snored softly further to my left, and a stranger snoozed on a chair against the wall, but Dorian was awake.  I could tell by the note of fear in his voice that all he could see was my glowing eyes and maybe the gleam of my horns in the darkness.  I could smell the blood of his wound and knew it was less serious than it looked.  The cuts had nicked at least one major vein and a lot of surface vessels, so it bled massively, but the bleeding hadn’t killed him, so now the only threat was that it would fester.  Well, the only threat beyond more demons and dragons and magisters.  For now, the wound smelled clean.  

I smiled.  “It’s me, Dorian.”  As hungry as I was, I knelt beside the cot, content to talk, although part of me feared I might pass out.  

I rested my chin on the cot near his arm, more than a little out of it and hoping that at least resting my head like that might help conserve my energy.  

Dorian frowned, stifled a cough, and grimaced.  

“Are you alright?”

His expression clearly foretold his answer.  “A demon practically clawed me apart, do you think I _can_ be fine?”

I grinned weakly.  “Good point.”

My voice must have belied my weakened state, because he frowned worriedly.  “Are _you_ alright?”  

I tried to bobble my head but only succeeded in almost falling over.  I’d been kneeling, but I slipped to the side, ending up seated awkwardly with my legs curled by my side, my wings struggling to stabilize me like a second pair of arms, and most of my weight on the arm I’d reflexively raised to grip the side of Dorian’s cot.  Well, I’d really just reached suddenly upward without time to think; my arm had landed not on the cot, but on Dorian’s upper thigh.  Only his chest had really been injured, so it didn’t hurt him, though I didn’t expect him to be able to react as I might have given the pain he was in and how weak he was right now.  Blood loss probably didn’t help either.  

For one very intense moment, we stared at each other before I looked away, moved my arm away, and explained very softly, “We barely survived that fight.”  I positioned myself more comfortably on the floor beside his cot and continued, “Cassandra and I got knocked out, Varric got his arm torn up, and you know what happened to you.”  I nodded to his chest.  I felt conflicted about what I planned to do next.  Bryce was clearly enamored with Dorian and I could tell that Dorian harbored some level of attraction towards Bryce as well.  I sensed quite keenly that Bryce and Dorian could have a life together, provided they both could put aside their respective problems and work together.  I cared deeply for both of them, and I knew from far too much experience that if either of them got with me in something more committed than a fling, it would end in pain and suffering, one way or another.  I liked them both too much to let that happen, I had to make sure that it didn’t.  They would be happier with each other.  Even if they were both nearly impossible for me to resist.  

“When that demon pounced you, Bryce...reacted strongly.  He rushed across the field to defend you.  Dorian, he saved your life.”

Even barely conscious in the dark, he knew me too well.  He didn’t realize the truth of my intentions, but he got the sense that I was trying to portray Bryce as pleasantly as I could and frowned.  “You _are_...intimate with him, aren’t you?”

I nodded and then bobbled my head.  I hoped for his sake that our relationship wouldn’t last much longer.  He frowned a little and then looked away.  

I sat still, initially just procrastinating because I was tired and didn’t want to get up to hunt, however hungry I was, but then I realized something.  My spirit was weak, but not my body.  I couldn’t cast anything powerful using energy from the fade, but my physical body was nearly unharmed.  I could cast off of my own blood.  

Since Dorian had first been injured, I had wanted to heal him.  The wound still threatened his life and even if he lived the healing would be very slow and very painful.  Especially with how much he wanted to help the Inquisition, I didn’t want to leave him so weakened if I could avoid it.  And if I drew power from my own blood, I _could_ avoid it.  

I had never been good with healing magic.  My own durability was an innate effect of the spirit part of my self; my magical skills tended almost exclusively towards offensive and aesthetic effects.  At my normal power level, I could freeze ponds and burn whole cabins without blood magic, but mimicking the methods of standard mages limited my magic.  If I wanted to heal, I had to use my own methods or my spell would be to weak to do anything.  As weak as I was right now, even using blood magic, I would need to channel the magic through my physical body, using my breath and lungs the way normal mages used a staff.  If I tried to channel the power more typically, I would only manage the slightest improvement, if that. 

I don’t think Dorian had the slightest idea what I was doing when I leaned over his chest.  My gloves had been ruined and I discarded them, so my hands were bare when I carefully brushed my fingers across the bandage to determine the location of the wound.  I had to be careful and hold my fingertips upward so my claws wouldn’t cut him.  He grimaced at the touch even through the bandage, but I don’t think he saw the lethal curves of black bone in the glow of my eyes.  “What are you—?”

I could tell where the wound was before he finished his sentence and I inadvertently silenced him with my next action.  I lowered my head and kissed the bandages on his chest.  I think he fell silent due to confusion at first, not understanding my intentions, but then it became obvious.  I drew in a deep breath, charging the air in my lungs with my magics using energy drawn from the blood within me.  When I exhaled the breath glowed green-white and sank into the wound, mending the flesh and bone to the skin.  

I may have drawn a little too much of my body’s energy.  When I finished the spell I nearly passed out.  I collapsed, sprawling my legs on the floor.  I let my head rest half on my own forearm and half on Dorian’s, which lay at his side.  My other arm remained draped over his abdomen and I was too weak right now to move it.  He frowned at me.  “Well, that was an interesting trick.  You probably shouldn’t have done that.  You said you got knocked out earlier, are you alright?”

It took me a long moment to be able to respond.  “I’m fine.  And now, so are you, hopefully.  Healing magic isn’t my forte.”  My voice was very weak and that clearly worried him.  

“Kai, if you risk your life for my sake I’d never forgive myself.  You had _better_ be fine.”

I grinned a bit guiltily, too exhausted to put up an argument.  He wasn’t overly energetic either at the moment.  

The lapse in conversation and the fact that both of us were stuck where we were for now gave us time to consider each other.  That was a dangerous thing.  

We stayed very still like that for a while.  It would have been hard to resist the urge to know what he was thinking, but my telepathy would have probably made me pass out if I’d had the strength to use it at all.  I guess we must have been thinking along the same lines.  He sat up a little, rolling onto his side so he could reach me better.  Despite my better judgement, I guessed his intentions and raised my head to kiss him.  I had to kneel in order to do so and moving my legs scrapped my boots along the floor, the first real sound we’d made since we’d stopped talking.  It did not go unnoticed.  

Varric sat up.  He was tense.  He could see almost as well as I could in the dark, but the noise had woken him from a nightmare and he hadn’t expected my cot to be empty.  “Dorian?”  In and of itself, the fact that he didn’t use a nickname would have clarified his fear to me even if I hadn’t already recognized it.  

“Yes?”  We broke the kiss as soon as he spoke and I realized that Varric hadn’t noticed it right away.  

“Oh.”  Varric rubbed the back of his head and looked away, realizing what he was seeing.  “Well...good to know you’re both...alright.”  The awkwardness was palpable.  

I stood to break it, brushing my wings across Dorian’s leg in my effort to keep my balance.  I noticed that he looked puzzled, but he said nothing about it.  I started to head outside and they both reacted at once.  

Varric started to speak but fell silent as Dorian did the same.  “Where are you going?  You nearly passed out a few minutes ago, should you really be wandering around late at night?”

“There’s something I have to do.  I’ll be back sometime before morning.”

They both seemed to draw the same conclusion.  This time Varric spoke first.  “Oh...”

I left, letting them presume what they wished.  I was too hungry to delay for much longer anyway.  I failed to notice that only Cassandra and the stranger had remained asleep by the time I left.  


	13. The Argument

I tried to get back to sleep after Qy left.  I mean, I had still nearly died, even if he had basically “kissed” it better.  It seemed interesting that he used magic that way, now that I thought about it.  I mean, most mages could cast without a staff and some only used the staff to deflect other weapons, but most found it helpful to channel magic through...something.  It helped if one had something to focus through, just breathing out healing energy was...odd.  Extremely odd.  And fascinating.  I would have to ask how he did that when he got back, provided I was still awake by that time.  I’d thought he’d just needed to piss, but I started to wonder when he didn’t return for a while.  I worried a little, but this was Qy.  He did that kind of thing rather often, disappointingly enough.  

I must have managed to doze off for a while because I woke up and realized that Bryce was gone and Qy still hadn’t returned.  I sighed aloud, grateful when I realized that the sound had gone unheard.  I knew I should rest, but only a faint sting of tender skin remained where my chest had been previously reduced to mincemeat and I didn’t feel tired at all right now.  Granted, realizing that Qy and Bryce were gone at the same time didn’t come without a fair bit of envy, so that hardly eased my usual insomnia.  Maybe the night air would help.  

I got up and adjusted my robes so that my bandaged chest was no longer completely exposed and headed out.  Clear skies seemed to make for colder nights, so neither the bitter chill in the air nor the stupendous beauty of the stars and crescent moon really surprised me, though the stunning firmament made me pause.  The moonlight lit the trees and buildings in shades of blue.  This late, most fires and torches had been put out, leaving stargazers unhindered, but making it somewhat difficult to see the ground and other insignificant details.  I wandered a short distance along the path from the house we were in and stopped.  

Bryce stood alone, leaning against a stone wall as he ran a hand through his hair.  In the dark, I hadn’t noticed him until he’d moved and he had, apparently, failed to notice me.  

I _could_ just walk away, go back inside, try to sleep some more.  That was the _smart_ thing to do.  But I made bad decisions far too often.  

“Bryce...”  I had no idea how to thank him for saving my life, no idea how to even begin that discussion.  The fact that he flinched when I spoke hardly helped matters.  

“Dorian?!  You’re...conscious.”

“Yes.  You didn’t think you could get rid of me so easily, did you?”  I grinned, but I’m not sure he saw that in the night.  

For an instant he looked almost apologetic and then the usual scowl returned.  “Of course not, nothing will ever get rid of you, will it?”

“Not for lack of trying, it seems.”  The retort was a reflex, not that I was sure I wouldn’t have said it anyway.  Qy must be blinded by...infatuation.  There was no way this brutish man felt anything but the deepest hatred for me.  Still, he had at least helped.  I trusted Qy enough to believe that he hadn’t lied to me outright.  “Thank you.”

Bryce seemed baffled, which probably should have clued me in, but it didn’t.  “For what?”

“For what you did earlier.”  And it took a great deal of effort to avoid adding an insult at the end of that statement.  The man was insufferable, even when he saved my life.  

At least he didn’t use that debt against me.  

Bryce frowned and then nodded.  He fell silent for a while.  

“Dorian, what happened between you and your parents?”

I stared.  Now that question had come completely out of nowhere.  What the hell had prompted him to ask _that_?  “What makes you think that _anything_ happened between me and my parents?”

“Eh...just gossip.”

“Really?”  I narrowed my eyes.  “Does `gossip’ have shiny black horns and an oversized, lumpy coat?”

“What are you implying?”  

“I’m not `implying’ anything, it’s obvious.  You and Qyvetiq—”

“Why do you say it like that—?”

“Because that’s his name, Qyvetiq...—”  I realized only then that I didn’t actually know Kai’s surname.  

“And you have to say it all...stuck-up like that?  Really?  You snobbish dick!”

“That’s _his name_.  That’s how it’s _spelled_.  Q-Y-V-E-T-I-Q, it’s hardly my fault if you’re to plebeian to understand—”

“That’s right, there you go with those big words.  I’m always too simple to understand anything, aren’t I?  Don’t explain anything to Bryce, just let him run around Thedas with a sword hitting the things we point him at like a fucking battering ram.  And oh, yeah, while we’re at it, let’s make him lead the whole fucking operation.  Why the hell won’t any of you just make sense!”  I realized then that we’d started to circle each other.  

“Oh?  Well, _of course_ you ask why we don’t make sense, nothing _ever_ makes sense to you, does it?  What must it be like in your tiny little mind?”

He punched me outright at that point, smacking me hard enough to send me reeling.  I felt my teeth crack together and tasted blood.  I spat some on the ground.  “Right.  Well, that’s that then, is it?”  

*       *       *

He turned and stalked away.  Dammit, I shouldn’t have done that.  Why did I hit him?  Why did I have to hit him?  Why did I always have to fuck things up?  Why did I always have to fuck up every single thing that I did?!

“Wait...”  He ignored me and I walked after him.  “Dorian, where are you going?”

The mage rounded on me and I almost ran into him.  “Does it matter?!  You know, you’re really starting to remind me of my father.  What are you going to do, leash me?  I’m your ally, not your fucking slave!”

He spun on his heel and started off.  I followed.  “Dorian, I’m sorry.”

“It’s a little late for that.”

“Dorian, please, just tell me where you’re going.”

“The tavern!  Where else?”

Right.  Of course he was going to the tavern, he always seemed drunk anyway.  I paused.  “The _Redcliffe_ tavern?”

“You know of another?”

“You’re going to walk all the way to Redcliffe at four in the morning?  After you almost died today?”

He stopped.  I walked a bit closer until he rounded and halted me.  “What is this, then?  This thing you do.  You scream at me, punch me, insult me, and then you...you save my life.”  He shook his head.  “What exactly is your game, Bryce?  Because if you want me to hate you, you’re doing a bang-up job of that.”

*      *      *

He broke eye contact.  His voice was very quiet when he finally answered me.  “I heard you earlier.  You and Kai.”

It took a moment for the full truth of that statement to dawn on me.  I laughed.  “You...you’re jealous?  You’re fucking jealous?  What right, Bryce, what damned right have you fucking got to be _jealous_?!”  

He blustered.  “Are you implying....are you suggesting that I...I...”

“Oh, will you drop the damn act, already, Bryce?  It’s perfectly obvious to anyone with a _brain_ that you and Qy are intimate, that you...how shall I put it?  _Prefer the company of men_?”

For a second I thought he was about to punch me again, then he seemed to calm down.  “Fine,” he admitted, “Kai and I have been...in-involved with each other.  But I most certainly _do not_ prefer men!”

“And what exactly is so wrong with that, Bryce?”

Again, he wavered.  “Uh....well........you...?”

“Me.”  He looked away and paced the deserted road.  

After a while, I spoke again.  “Yes.  Me, Bryce.  Does that bother you?  Does that...disturb you?  Does that make you want to punch me again?”

Again, I thought he was about to strike me.  He didn’t.  He scowled.  “Of course you do.  Of course you prefer men, you `prefer’ Kai, don’t you?”

“As opposed to who, you?  Cassandra?  The fucking king of Nevarra?  Yes, I `prefer’ Kai, is that really so difficult to believe?  That I prefer a man with horns and some sense of...decency?  Over you?!  Frankly he’s a better man than you could ever deserve!”

“Oh.  Really?”  Bryce stomped over to me and I barely noticed the dramatic differences in our height and build.  The man was built like an elephant.  “And I suppose _you’re_ more suited for him then?  You?  A damned stuck-up magister blood mage from Tevinter?”  

“Don’t you _dare_ call me a blood mage!”

*       *       *

“Alright, calm down.  We’re both on the same side here!”  They both turned when they heard me.  Bryce shoved his fists into the pockets of his coat and took a few steps away from Dorian, who put some more distance between himself and Bryce.  Their argument had woken a few people around town and I saw one of the farmers who had lived here before the rebellion standing outside with a candle.  They both seemed to notice this and in the light, I realized that Bryce must have punched Dorian at some point already.  I was glad I’d interrupted them when I had, or they would probably have come to blows again.  

For an awkward moment, the two of them stared around, noticing that their argument hadn’t gone unheard.  I didn’t know what to say, I never did in this kind of situation.  Jeez, I was awful at settling disputes between friends, especially when it was this kind of argument.  I’d heard enough to get the gist and I’d rather not take sides.  

Bryce looked at me.  “Sorry.  Varric.”  He added my name as a clarification, a note that he wasn’t apologizing to Dorian, and it showed.  The Inquisitor stalked off into the woods, probably to blow off some steam hunting bears.  Dorian watched him go, glaring all the while and then stormed off in the other direction before I could say anything.  I sighed aloud.  Well, at least everyone was still alive.  


	14. One Tie Severed, New Choices to Make

I’d intended to head out into the predawn forest and hunt until I calmed down, but instead I found Kai.  

Well, found might be a bit misleading, happened upon him is more accurate.  I wandered without focus, probably much more distracted than I should have been while hunting.  I heard what I thought was a deer and looked up.  It wasn’t a deer.  

Kai stood with his back against an old pine, scraping his horns over the bark and leaving bare patches in their wake.  His wings stood partly spread, shimmering as they billowed in the breeze.  He had his tail curled around the trunk and rocked his hips against the tree, scraping the scales of his tail against the rough bark.  His cloak lay neatly folded on a nearby rock with his axe resting across it.  Rather than a shirt, he wore some strange wrap of cloth to accommodate the wings on his back.  He wore at least two necklaces beneath that fabric, but I barely noticed.  He’d stripped from the waist down.  He’d also taken off his gloves and shoes.  His hands looked almost human until you noticed that, in place of fingernails, black crescents of lethally sharp bone curved forward, coming to a glittering point.  His feet were even less human.  He had four toes, also tipped in talons.  He stood on the front half of his feet, towering over me when he did that, and scales ranging from black through blue and purple to red covered up to his mid-calves.  

Mildly more distracting than the realization that Kai was even less human than I had first suspected was the massive erection in his hand as well as the way he had chosen to stimulate it.  He stroked it of course, to the same rhythm as he rubbed his horns against the tree, although I didn’t realize that at the time, but the hand he was running up and down his shaft also sparkled with frigid magic.  

It wasn’t strong enough to hurt, just to create the sensation, but it still alarmed me.  

“You’re a mage?”

Those eyes flicked open, deep indigo at first, but they rapidly lightened to a blue-ish lavender.  “You’re surprised?”  He looked at me quite calmly, but he kept masturbating and subtly rubbing one horn against the tree.  

I blushed.  “Y-yes.  Do you need to keep doing that right now?”

“The magic, or...— ?”

“Both.”

He grinned, leaning back a little and widening his stance to give me a better view.  “You know, magic can have some _very_ nice uses.  There are some that I’m sure you’d quite enjoy.”

My mouth went dry.  I wanted to insist that I didn’t trust magic, regardless of who used it, but I did have to admit that something about Kai...I wanted to trust him.  He’d already saved my life several times over, nearly dying several times over.  I didn’t quite dare smack him for that.  I still frowned.  

“I thought you were dead, again, haven’t I told you not to do that to me?”

“A minor miscalculation.  I’m sorry I worried you.”

I looked away.  I started to pace without realizing that I was doing that or noticing when I stopped hearing his horns against the bark.  “How...why did you pretend that you weren’t a mage?”

Kai rested a hand on my shoulder and I flinched.  He was standing behind me right now.  I could feel the delicate bones of his wings brushing the sides of my legs.  “I never claimed that I was not a mage.  The deception was unintentional.  I don’t use magic because...magic complicates things.  I can’t target it often.  I channel the power through my own body more often than a staff, and however I channel destructive magic it...often ranges far beyond my desired target.  I’m much better with...other techniques.”  He leaned forward just enough that I could feel his cock against my back.  

“Ah?  So you do have a flirty side, aside from pretending to be asleep and hoping I get drunk.”  Now my libido was making it difficult to resist him.  There had been more I’d hoped to discuss, but that didn’t seem likely to happen anymore.  I rocked back against him and let his hands unbutton my shirt.  

“That was hardly my flirty side.  I didn’t want to put you under any more pressure.”He kissed my neck.  

That caught me a little off-guard.  “You thought about that?  Well...thank you.  I’m glad _someone_ around here actually seems to care what I want.”

He made an affirmative sound into my neck and tossed my shirt and jacket onto the rock where his cloak lay.  “I could make that sexual, but in all seriousness, I wish more people noticed how much you hate it.  You could—”  

He was getting depressing.  I brought my left hand down to unbutton my pants and start to slide them off.  “Your horns are very sensitive?”  I reached up with my other hand and grabbed one of his horns, sliding my hand along the metallic length a little roughly.  I knew the answer before he could speak.  As soon as I did that, he moaned and exhaled a little cold magic against my collarbone.  Okay, that was a lot more disorienting when it wasn’t done into a kiss.  

He finished what I’d started, pulling my pants down almost to my knees.  One of his hands slid down to grip my length and I felt a claw brush against me.  I nearly screamed.  

Those wings swung forward to wrap me like a blanket and he kissed my shoulder.  “It’s okay.  I won’t hurt you, you don’t need to worry.”  To my great surprise, I realized that I actually trusted him about that.  He seemed almost completely devoid of negative intentions, even if his morals were probably as grey as my own.  

He stooped a little and I realized that he was about to thrust into me.  I really hoped that my trust was well placed.  He did something I couldn’t identify and rammed upwards.  It went in much easier than I’d expected given his size.  I’d never actually had sex this way before.  Heck, I’d never done it with a man before Kai, so this was completely new.  And not as painful as I’d expected.  He’d done something.  I could feel it, he’d conjured up some kind of lubricant and he might even be healing me at the same time, channeling the magic through his cock.  ...that was actually kind of hot, in a weird, demon-magic kind of way.  

He must have been pretty close when I’d arrived because I could tell that he was close pretty early after he started thrusting.  I didn’t want to move in case it would hurt and my hand clenched around his horn.  He moaned when I did that and nipped my shoulder.  Having seen him bite things apart, that worried me a bit as well, but he was gentle.  He wasn’t even a big qunari, assuming he was a qunari at all; I couldn’t imagine what this would be like with Bull.  

Kai came very quickly and it felt even stranger than I’d expected.  His cock spasmed inside me and pumped out more seed than I’d expected.  It was colder than I’d expected too, but the volume was what really surprised me, although I suppose he _had_ produced enough to glue us together the last time, so I should probably have expected this.  Kai shuddered.  For a moment he pulled his wings more tightly around me and then he opened them and pulled out.  

I turned to face him.  I’d expected him to do more, but I realized what he was up to when I saw his expression.  He’d done that because he’d been so close already, it was his version of foreplay, not the main event.  I had the sneaking suspicion that Kai also knew what I wanted to do.  As much as his cock turned me on and as much as I liked his body, I had been more than a little curious about the one part of him that wasn’t male.  I was more used to women than men and I’d wanted to try out that part of him since I’d discovered that he’d had it.  That was what he was waiting for now.  I hooked a finger around behind his balls and slid it up inside him, kissing him roughly as I did so.  I pushed him back against the tree and he moved easily.  We were nearly the same height, but he had a leaner build, probably so he could fly more easily.  This left our hips at a bad height for this, but I was pretty sure I could lift him if I tried.  I miscalculated.  I grabbed his knees and raised them to my hips, but that was the best I could do, I wouldn’t be able to hold him long enough to do this.  Luckily, Kai had a plan.  He snapped his wings upwards, stirring a small hurricane of dust and pine needles around us as he hooked the thumb claws of his wings over some of the trees branches and used them to hold himself up, but he didn’t stop there.  He used one arm to pull me more deeply into the kiss and clamped the other around my back, pressing our chests together.  He wrapped his legs around my hips, gripping with his thighs as if he were riding a horse.  He curled his calved beneath me and I realized that the way he had them, he could hold me completely off the ground quite easily.  I hadn’t expected the delicate appendages to have such strength, but he lifted us both into the air with his wings and held us nearly ten feet above the ground.  The fragile fingers of his wings curled around me to further support my back.  I hadn’t been fond of heights since I’d fallen out of a tree as a small child; it wasn’t exactly comfortable to be so keenly aware of how far it was to the ground below.  

Kai nuzzled my neck when he realized why I had frozen in place.  “It’s alright, Bryce.  I won’t drop you.  You can trust me.”  I stared at those blazingly colorful eyes, quite aware of the unnerving blackness of his whites and the way that his pupils were just slightly elongated.  I realized, much to my surprise, that I did trust him.  

I kissed him again, pushing my tongue into his mouth and reaching down to guide my cock into him.  I realized something and broke the kiss.  “Just...just to be sure, you can’t...can you?”  

Kai chuckled and I thought I hadn’t been clear enough until he responded knowingly, “Bryce, I’ve slept with more guys than I can count, as I haven’t gotten pregnant by now, I highly doubt that it’s possible.”

“Good.”  I really didn’t need any more responsibility.  Sending me to the Conclave had been the first time in my life that my parents had treated me like an adult after controlling and belittling me for twenty-two years.  Practically overnight, I’d gone from being treated like a child to running an organization that decided the course of life in all of Thedas.  I was barely used to choosing my own outfits in the morning, let alone saving the whole world.  At least being with Kai was simple, no expectations, no deeper meaning, just sex and understanding and quiet.  

I trusted him not to drop me, but that didn’t mean I was overly comfortable having sex while hanging high above the ground.  I wanted to get this over with fairly quickly and started thrusting with that in mind.  Kai apparently had other plans.  He plunged his tail deep into me and started pressing against all the right places.  It was like he could read my mind.  Even if I hadn’t been thrusting as fast as I could, I wouldn’t have lasted very long.  The last time, Kai had tightened around me as I’d thrust and he did that now as well.  He seemed even better this way and I wondered if this was how he usually had sex.  Well, this on the ground, hopefully, although for all I knew, maybe he did just haul all his lovers up into trees like this.  

I came quickly and he seemed to orgasm as well, or at least he sort of shivered around me like some women had.  It was much more difficult to tell.  He folded his wings around me like some giant bat and I could feel the tension in the unnervingly slender muscles supporting us.  Despite his arms and legs holding me like the solid stone of a castle floor, I was too terrified to move until he set me back on the ground.  

The sun was starting to rise now and Kai squinted to the east to watch it.  He seemed to pale in the light, his skin looking more human and less cold.  The dark made it seem almost blue sometimes, but the pale tone warmed with the dawn and his lips hair and horns seemed less dark.  It was strange, at night he seemed perhaps more alive, but also more...unnatural.  It was as if the darkness somehow possessed him, making him more powerful but also turning him into something else, something much less human.  Despite my distrust of magic— which I figured that this had to be— I wasn’t sure which version of Kai I preferred.  In the daylight, it was as if he was lacking something, as if he was somehow half asleep.  The scales on his hands, feet, tail, and wings dulled in the light.  The top of his wings turned dark grayish blue while the underside dulled to a peachy tone a few shades separated from the color of his skin.  He was like a faded copy of himself.  At least those eyes still held the same intensity.  

The angle of his face now, in good lighting, without a hood or his own hair in the way let me realize something unsettling.  I shuddered.  

Kai looked over at me, somehow breaking his fascination with the sunrise.  “Cold?”

I shook my head.  “You look disturbingly similar to my father.”

*       *       *

So he had noticed.  Good.  Even though my wings and tail had become practically impossible for retract, I still retained enough control of my appearance to change my face.  I had shifted the features ever so subtly until I resembled his father.  The differences were so subtle that Bryce would probably fail to notice if I later reverted to my preferred face, but now he would find himself completely repulsed by the idea of a sexual relationship with myself.  He’d break it off, leaving him free to get together with Dorian, and everyone would be happy.  Hopefully.  

He shook his head.  “Sorry.  I...I can’t do this any more.  That’s too...disturbing.”

I chuckled.  “Of course.  I understand.  I’d be freaked out too, if you resembled my father.  Or any of my parents, really.”

“Any?  As in you have more than two?”

I shrugged.  “I had a step-mother for all intents and purposes.  I don’t believe my father ever actually married her, but she raised me and they probably slept together.”

“At least they were probably better people than my father.”

“I doubt it.  My step-mother was a harsh woman.  She never outright harmed us, but my siblings and I lived in outright fear of her and she went to great lengths to control us completely.  My father was worse, he...experimented...on us, among others.  His experiments almost certainly caused my birth mother’s death.”  Among other things, but Bryce would never believe me if I told him.  

Bryce paused.  “That’s...harsh.  On second thought, I’m not sure my dad quite compares.  He...”  He shook his head.  The memories were too painful, he didn’t want to admit it.  My father may have risked my life for the sake of power, but he also made me what I was now, and I could never hate him for that.  Bryce’s father had abused him, and that violence had settled within him, making him afraid and aggressive.  He recognized that.  It would have been difficult enough for him to fight that side of himself and become a better person than his father even without the crushing responsibility of running the Inquisition at the same time.  It may have just been because I could read his mind and feel his emotions as if they were my own, but I felt for him.  His father had grown to hate him mostly because of his sexuality, and knowing what I did of Dorian, I hoped that they could bond over that.  Bryce wouldn’t be able to hurt him if he would only realize that.  

As if reading my mind, Bryce changed the subject.  “What happened between Dorian and his family?  Mother Giselle said they tried to contact him, she told you and you...went ballistic.  She said `got quite upset,’ but it sounds like that’s an understatement.”  

The ease of the atmosphere between us tensed.  I frowned at him.  “Why do you ask?”

I could have just read his mind and I’d probably need to resort to that anyway, given Bryce’s reluctance to communicate.  “I...I just thought...”  He shrugged.  “I don’t know, I thought I might help him reconcile with them, if...if that’s something he’d want...?”  

I barely resisted the urge to laugh skeptically.  Bryce?  Playing peace-keeper?  What an idea!  The amusement came with a sharp burst of fury.  It was directed at Dorian’s father more than Bryce.  I used blood magic, but altering human minds was crossing a line I would never cross, attempting to alter the mind of one’s own son without even the expertise necessary to do so in relative safety...that was unspeakable, a crime I would never even consider.  “What Dorian’s father did is completely intolerable.  To some degree, it is true that Dorian still cares for him and may even wish to reconcile, provided his father is reasonable, but personally, I would never give him that chance.  It is not my place to describe the crime in detail, but in my personal opinion it goes beyond the crimes of my own father, perhaps beyond the crimes of yours as well.  Were I to find the man lurking at Skyhold like the snake that he surely is, and were I to recognize him, I doubt that he would survive the encounter.  Ask Dorian if you wish to know more.”

I looked back towards the East, the sun rising above the tree line already.  I let magical flame briefly rush across my skin, cleaning myself off, and then I got dressed.  Bryce considered my outburst.  He seemed taken aback by the deep hatred in my voice.  He’d only heard that before when something threatened the life of someone I cared about very deeply.  I got the sense that he would have asked for more detail except that he knew I would never explain.  Instead, he asked something else.  

“What is it between you and him, exactly?”

I had expected the question.  I knew from having delved into his mind earlier that he had seen us kiss in the cottage, but I still wasn’t sure how to answer.  “We were friends.  Are friends still, I suppose.  I met him on the boat when he left Tevinter, I was a sailor for a while, or rather the night lookout on the ship.  We both got terribly seasick, and that was pretty much how we became friends.  We slept together once, things got awkward, I left, I found him at Skyhold, much to my surprise.  We’re not...involved, but he is attracted to me.”

“Nothing mutual?”  His tone made it clear enough that he knew there was.  

“I am attracted to him as well.  I care about him.  But so do you, much more than you let on.  I won’t interfere if you pursue him.”  He started to get defensive and I added hastily, “I understand why you hide it.  It’s a difficult thing to admit, even dangerous, given his status as a mage from Tevinter.  And you have been raised to distrust, even hate, mages.  You bluster, bristle at him; you put on a show so it seems like you hate him.  I know you care for him because if I cared for someone whom I hated on principle, say a qunari or a templar, I’d act the same way.”  He had started to relax, but at that phrase he scowled again and I realized that he thought I was making a jab at his attractions to the Iron Bull and Cullen.  I clarified.  “There’s nothing wrong with that, Bryce.  Talk to him.  That’s all I’m saying.  Talk to him, and don’t let your hate get the best of you.  You’re more alike than you realize.”  I adjusted my coat, clasping it at my neck but leaving the thick white scales to hang down my back between my wings, leaving them exposed.  I left my tail exposed as well.  I slung my bag over one shoulder and started back towards the crossroads.  

Bryce stared.  “You’re...going like that?”

“I only concealed my nature for your sake.”

He thought for a moment.  “Oh.  ...Thanks.”

I nodded.  “You hardly need more stress in your life.  Good luck, Bryce.”


	15. Daddy Issues

Breakfast went down like a two-copper whore.  Bryce and Kai didn’t show up until halfway through and Dorian sat in silence, too tired, sore, and upset to say much.  Which left me and Cassandra virtually alone together for breakfast of soggy oatmeal.  At least she was too tired and sore from yesterday to argue with me about anything.  She snapped at me for accidentally standing in her way as she went to sit down at the table, but otherwise she stayed quiet and I was just about to feel grateful for that when Kai returned.  Everyone but Dorian had gotten a got enough look at him yesterday, but an oddly intact corpse that seemed to be a desire demon was one thing.  A very much living, intimidating man who seemed to be a desire demon was another matter entirely.  The townsfolk stopped to stare.  A few grabbed swords and bows, but most screamed.  Many fled to their houses and locked the doors, some ran into the woods, a few started frantically singing the chant as they backed away from him.  Cassandra gave the horned man a groggy scowl and went back to eating; I realized that she must have already seen him like this.  Dorian stared.  

“Kai...?”

Ignoring the few villagers who had drawn weapons, Kai approached us with a tentative smile.  None of the poor refugees had the courage to attack him anyway.  He sat across from Dorian and brushed some hair off his horns with a clawed hand.  He wasn’t wearing gloves any more. “Yes?”

Cassandra broke her silence.  “I take it you no longer care who knows that you are a demon?”

“I’m not a demon,” Kai insisted, “but yes, you can feel free to tell people that I have wings and a tail.”  He rolled his shoulders and stretched his wings as if to demonstrate.  

Dorian studied the motion with keen interest.  “Remarkable!  Are you a spirit of some sort?  Like Cole?”

Kai bobbled his head.  “I’m similar to Cole, but not quite.  It’s complicated.  I’ll tell you at some point.”

Bryce showed up then, though we’d all been too distracted by Kai to see him approach.  “You sure it’s a good idea to leave your wings visible like that?”  He seemed calm, and wasn’t even remotely hostile towards Kai _or_ Dorian.  That seemed more than a little strange, but hopefully it was a good sign.  Something had happened between him and Kai.  

Kai laughed.  “A good idea?  Like vacationing in the Deep Roads?  Leaving my wings visible is probably a terrible idea, but I’m much more comfortable this way and most people wouldn’t dare attack me, besides, I can handle myself if they do.”  He patted the blade of his axe.  

*       *       *

So Qy was a spirit.  That was strange, but I supposed it made sense.  He had always been unusual.  It occurred to me now that his wings may have been the reason he’d left so abruptly after the night we’d finally gotten off that boat.  Drunk as I must have been, I may have panicked if we’d started to have sex and I’d discovered them.  That could have devastated him, maybe even enough to make him leave right then.  I wasn’t oblivious to the possibility that he had just left because he’d gotten what he wanted from me, but that didn’t seem to be the case.  He cared for me, that much was obvious.  I suppose, in a way, I appreciated that he was too loyal to leave Bryce for me, it meant that loyalty would probably remain if Qy ended up with me instead.  He seemed to treat the relationship as something more serious than a fling, and I guess it was the quixotic allure of that concept that so enticed me.  Just the thought that Qy might one day care for me as something...more.  _That_ was truly enchanting.  And foolish.  Besides, he was involved with Bryce, and he seemed serious about it.  I envied them.  

My jaw still ached from last night; I’d bit my tongue when he’d punched me, so the awful gruel that was breakfast stung as I ate.  Having gotten so little sleep didn’t improve my mood either and the new and tender skin on my chest didn’t exactly feel great.  It was like a torn-open blister, except that it covered a good ten inch circle of flesh.  Today was shaping up to be just wonderful, although I managed some level of joy when Qy arrived.  My feelings when Bryce joined him were a bit more complex.  

I hated him.  He’d called me a blood mage, threatened me, acted like I was going to kill him at every turn, even outright punched me.  Distrust was one thing, but this went way beyond normal dislike of Tevinter or even mages in general  This was completely uncalled for, the man was a brute, lashing out at everything and everyone he didn’t like, even if they were on his side.  

But on the other hand, he led the Inquisition, the best and only hope of stopping Corypheus.  He could close the rifts and he often risked his life to do it.  He’d gone to great lengths to save strangers, I’d watch him face Corypheus in Haven and knew that he had expected to sacrifice his own life to save the Inquisition, and not because it could stop Corypheus, not to be known as a martyr, but because it would save lives.  I’d seen the man be incredibly compassionate, I even knew that choosing to aid the templars over the mages had nearly broken him because he knew that the other side would likely die.  The man had an enormous capacity for compassion, even if his hate so often got in the way.  And I had to admit that he was incredibly good-looking.  

I had thought that the day could hardly get worse, but then it started to rain and Bryce approached me after we finished eating.  

“Let’s go to Redcliffe.”

“`Let’s’?”  I raised an eyebrow.  Cassandra and Varric had stepped under the edge of the cottage roof when the rain began and Qy was talking to them; they couldn’t hear what Bryce had just said.  “Shouldn’t you have waited until they were within earshot as well?”

“Kai will tell them.  You said you wanted a drink last night, better late than never, right?”

“I...suppose.”

A part of me hoped he wanted to talk in private, to apologize for last night, but I also half expected him to try to kill me.  I followed him anyway, giving him the benefit of the doubt, I guess.  I expected the others to catch up at some point, but they never did.  I found out later that Qy had told them to wait at the crossroads for the day.  He’d been somewhat mislead as well, as it turned out; Bryce had told him that he wanted to speak to me alone, and that turned out to be only partly true.  

We walked in silence for a while and then he spoke abruptly.  “Just so you know...Kai and I are no longer...involved.”

I raised an eyebrow.  “And...you’re telling me this because...?”

To my surprise, Qy’s suspicion had been correct.  Bryce blushed and looked away too quickly for comfort.  “No reason.”  That left me speechless for a moment.  Did the Inquisitor actually have feelings for me?  The Inquisitor, of all people?  On one hand, Qy was now available and he probably was interested in me, though he may still refuse to start anything.  Now that I thought about it, Qy seemed to have been actively trying to get me involved with the Inquisitor, and if Bryce was actually going to be civil, for a change...  The idea seemed absurd.  Why and how did it still manage to entice me?

“Was it your idea that he hide his wings?”  There was no venom in my tone, nor in Bryce’s when he answered.  

“No.  That was entirely his doing.”  I didn’t know if I believed him or not, but he did seem honest about it.  

We lapsed into silence for another quarter of the trip before he spoke again.  “I’m sorry about last night.”

I almost said that I was sorry as well.  “...alright.”  I wasn’t sure where this was going and he didn’t seem to be either.  We said nothing for the rest of the rainy walk.  

*       *       *

The tavern was deserted when we got inside.  I don’t know what I’d expected, but Dorian got suspicious immediately.  

“The place is deserted.  Is this normal or-?”

A man emerged from a staircase.  I’d expected some kind of servant, but this was clearly a noble.  I guess his identity and was proved right.  “Dorian.”

“Father?”  He rounded on me.  “You knew about this?  Is that why you brought me here?”

I’d planned out what I was going to say.  I’d planned to be honest, to help, to get him to deal with the retainer as he saw fit, but I hadn’t expected to encounter his father.  As soon as I saw the man, my plans went out the window.  There was no way I was ready to admit my attraction to Dorian in front of any noble, let alone his father.  I raised my hands in surrender.  Luckily, the older man spoke before I could cobble together some response.  

“He didn’t know I would be here, Dorian.  I apologize for the deception Inquisitor, I never intended for you to be involved.”  At least he apologized.  

Dorian was enraged.  “Of course not!  Magister Pavus couldn’t come to Skyhold and be seen with the dreaded Inquisitor.  What would people think?  What is this exactly, father?  Ambush?  Kidnapping?  Warm family reunion?”  The bitterness in his voice was tangible.  Maybe this had been a bad idea.

Dorian’s father sighed.  “This is how it has always been.”  

“I should leave you to work this out...”  I started to back towards the door.  

“No.” Dorian snapped, “You wanted to involve yourself, you should hear the truth!”

“Dorian, there’s no need to—”

“I prefer the company of men.  My father disapproves.”  

Wait.  That couldn’t be all this was about.  He had to mean something beyond what I thought he meant.  “...What?”

“Did I stutter?  Men.  And the company thereof, as in sex.  Surely you’ve heard of it?”

“That’s what I thought.  No need to elaborate.”

He rolled his eyes.  I could tell he knew that I was just acting because I refused to admit my sexuality in front of his father.  

“This display is uncalled for.”

Now Dorian turned back to his father and I half expected things to catch fire.  “No, it _is_ called for!  You called for it by luring me here!”

His father frowned and again I expected a fight.  My father would already have turned this into a brawl if the situation had been reversed.  “This is not what I wanted.”

“I’m never what you wanted, father, or had you forgotten?”

I found myself taken aback.  Kai’d been right, we really were very similar.  I had said the exact same thing to my father a few weeks before he’d sent me to the Conclave.  He’d beaten me nearly senseless after that argument.  At least Dorian had be here in case his father tried the same, although if there was magic involved...

“Dorian, just walk away.  You did that once before, didn’t you?”

“Yet here I am once again, no thanks to you.”  The venom in his tone really hurt.  I didn’t need to know what his father had done anymore, I understood his situation and trusted Kai’s insistence that it was worse than anything my own father had done to me.  I shouldn’t have tricked Dorian into coming here, I should have just torn up that god-damned letter like I’d torn up the one my own father had sent.  

“Dorian, please, if you’ll only listen to me—”

“Why?” He rounded on him again.  “So you can spout more convenient lies?  _He_ taught me to hate blood magic!  The resort of the weak mind, those are his words!  But what was the first thing you did when your precious heir refused to play pretend for the rest of his life?  You tried to change me!”

He looked so sad that I wanted to punch him.  My own father did the same thing sometimes, on the rare occasions that he was sober.  “I only wanted what was best for you.”

Dorian was having none of it.  “You wanted the best for you!  For your fucking legacy!  Anything for that!”  He stormed over to a table and leaned on it.  

I tried to rest a hand on his shoulder, but he shook me off.  “I think it’s time we left.”

“I agree.”

*       *       *

Varric and Cassandra went to sleep around eleven that night but I stayed awake outside, inadvertently keeping the townsfolk indoors.  They feared me, which wasn’t surprising.  They should fear what I was, for their own safety, though I didn’t want them to and though they only feared the demon that they believed me to be.  As such, I was the only one outside when Bryce and Dorian returned.  Or, rather, when Bryce returned and waited outside just long enough to see that Dorian made it back to the edge of town before he slipped inside.  I sensed no hostility from him, only a quiet worry that led me to believe that Dorian had insisted that he leave.  I suspected that Bryce had kept just far enough ahead of Dorian to make sure he made it back safely, but that he had hidden so Dorian wouldn’t be more angry at him.  I use the term `more angry’ because even from a distance, I could tell that Dorian was fuming.  For once, Bryce seemed the calm one.  

I walked down to Dorian, intercepting him before he had to debate whether or not he was willing to go into the cottage and get out of the continuing rain.  He saw me and leaned against the stone wall that ran through the town, waiting there for me to join him.  I stretched a wing out above him, blocking the rain.  I didn’t mind it myself, I was soaked, and I rather liked the water.  Dorian looked up at the translucent membrane above him, stunningly colorful in the night, lit dimly by the glow of a few windows.  

“They’re really quite stunning.  I suppose I understand why you created those horrible hide coats now.  You should have let them be seen.  I’m certain that if we take you to the right party, all of Orlais will be wearing wings like yours.”

I smiled but didn’t laugh.  I knew him too well.  “You alright?”

He grinned sadly.  “Not really.”  He fell silent and looked away, watching the rain run off the golden frill where my wing met my back.  I let him take his time to explain.  

“Bryce took me to meet my father.  He didn’t know it would be my father he was meeting, I think he was told that it would be a servant, but...still.”  He shook his head and looked away.  

My anger was instant.  I snapped the water off the membrane of my wing, never letting a drop touch Dorian, but creating a sound like the crack of thunder and whisking a small wave of spray across the road behind us.  My tail lashed behind me, striking the ground and sending a small pebble skipping away over the cobbles.  I tossed my head, shaking a little water free of my hair and horns, but mostly doing that on instinct.  The talons of my left foot scratched the stone beneath it, drawing a flash of sparks.  “He should never have done that.”  My tone was deceptively calm, so it was lucky, I supposed, that my display of aggression hadn’t gone unnoticed.  Dorian had flinched at the sound of my wing above him before he realized what it was.  I found him looking up at me when I looked back towards him.  

“So protective?  I’d have thought he’d wronged you instead, if I didn’t know better.”

“I know what it’s like to be in your situation.”

That bittersweet grin remained.  “You told me that on the boat, don’t you remember.”

That grin was contagious.  “I thought that you wouldn’t.”  We both fell silent for a moment and I leaned on the wall beside him.  “I only told you that my father...did terrible things, didn’t I?”

He frowned and studied the water dripping off my wing again.  “You told me that your father killed your mother and implied that he...did something to you.”  Curiosity won out over honor and I dipped into his mind.  He thought that my father had beat me, or perhaps used blood magic to try and change me as his father had.  

“That is...more or less true.”  I hesitated, watching the rain fall between us and the cottage window.  I would have to be vague.  I couldn’t tell him the whole truth, not now, not until I knew it was safe to do so, until I was leaving them all.  The thought made me sad.  I hated having to lie.  It was the sort of thing that my sister would do.  I wanted to tell him everything, but I couldn’t.  I could at least tell him as much as possible.  

“The truth is, my father...experimented.  He made me the way I am and others like me, although few survived.  And I do mean father literally.  From what I’ve read of his notes, he got our mothers pregnant, and then...  I was born more-or-less as I am now, as far as wings, horns, tail...  None of our mothers survived, and relatively few of us lived past birth.  He...studied us further after that, I think some of it must have been blood magic.  In some ways it became a good life after he moved on to other things.  I’d nearly managed to forget, then he had this idea to try and...breed us.  Went rather similarly to your own experience after that.”  

I glanced over at him.  He looked practically sickened.  

“Your father did this to you?  How?”

I knew he was asking because he wanted to make sure it never happened again and not so he could do the same.  He’d never even consider such a horrible thing.  “I don’t know,” I lied, “It isn’t as if I read all his notes or can remember when it happened.”  

He shook his head, appalled.  After a moment he started laughing uncontrollably.  “Well, you clearly were born in Tevinter.”  He kept laughing and I realized that he was actually crying at the same time.  I pulled him into a hug and I suppose he knew better than to bother struggling at this point.  I moved my wings to shelter us both.  I held him like that for nearly an hour until he calmed down.  For a few minutes, he stared off down the dark road, not speaking or breaking out of the hug.  

“You’re soaking wet.”

“I know.”  I managed to grin a little.  “You seem to be pretty soaked as well.”

“Well the weather suits the mood.”  He smiled as well and tried to dry his eyes with an equally damp hand.  It was so humid that we hadn’t dried at all after an hour under my wings.  “At this rate we’ll catch cold.”

“You sound like my mother.”  I dug a towel out of my bag and tried to dry him a little.  

“It’s something my mother used to say.”  He looked sad again and took the towel from me, drying off a bit, although we both realized that it was somewhat pointless.  “My father never understood, living a lie, it festers inside of you like poison.  You have to fight for what’s in your heart.”  

“My parents never understood either.”  

He sighed.  “At any rate, time to drink myself into a stupor, it’s been that sort of day.  Join me sometime, if you’ve a mind.”  He started to walk away and paused.  

“Where exactly are you planning to go drinking?”  

He hesitated and I knew that he hadn’t really thought this through.  I chuckled and walked over to him, one wing extended to keep him somewhat dry.  “Come on.  I have a friend in the area, we should be able to stay with him for the night.”

“You’ve been here before?” He walked beside me, his soggy boots squishing on the stone.  

I nodded.  “Dorian, I’ve been almost everywhere at some point or another.  I’ve spent most of my life traveling.”  

He grinned.  “I bet you have some stories to tell.”  I grinned as well and started guiding us up along a trail off the main road.  “Who exactly is this friend of yours, anyway?”

“He’s an apostate.  I have two other friends in the area as well, but they might not be happy to see me; I doubt they ever knew I had wings.”  

“Aren’t all southern mages apostates now?”

I laughed.  “Yes, my friend just went rogue before the circles disbanded.”  

I’d been a bit worried for him with all the fighting in the area.  He wasn’t the best fighter and I had feared that they would find his hiding place.  They hadn’t.  I could smell that he was still around here, probably living in the house where I’d first found him.  He’d originally been a friend of the Hero of Fereldan, she’d mentioned him to me and asked if I could make sure he was alright before she had died.  I hadn’t gotten to see him until she was gone, but it felt oddly like I was keeping my promise to check up on him once again after so many years.  

I paused at what appeared to be a cluster of trees around a large boulder.  

“Jozan?”  After a few quiet moments, the mage opened the door.  Or, to be more specific, he opened what appeared to be a section of a particularly twisted old pine, but with it the truth of the powerful illusion spell could be seen.  The rock was not truly rock but the stone walls of a small house, The trees were the support beams and their needles the thatched roof.  The light within only became visible once one was welcomed inside.  I had cast the spell myself, woven it over the natural materials so that the dwelling would remain concealed as the night blurred perceptions of the forest.  

I knew that bringing Dorian to meet Jozan, a blood mage, could end very badly, but Jozan and I had already determined that unless I broached the topic, he was not to mention blood magic in front of anyone who might accompany me.  I hoped that he would remember this agreement.  

*       *        *

The illusion dissolved as an odd, somewhat scrawny-looking mage opened the door.  He smiled at Qyvetiq.  “It’s good to see you, old friend.  I thought you went up to Antiva?”  He stepped back and gestured to the open door.  “Come inside, it’s miserable out here.”

Qy and I ducked inside.  The cabin was almost uncomfortably small, but at least it was dry and warm.  

“I stayed there for a while,” Qy explained, “then I went further north, and then I ended up back down here.”  He sat down carefully in an oddly built wooden chair that must have been designed to accommodate his wings and tail.  The one-room hut had a wooden table, a bed, and three very mismatched chairs including that one.  The third chair had been repurposed as a table for books and coats and blankets and Jozan hastily cleared it off.  

“Sorry.  I don’t entertain guests very often.”

“No, I don’t imagine you would.  This place was a war-zone until very recently; hardly very hospitable for company.”

Qy gestured to the awkward mage, “My friend, Jozan.  Jozan, this is Dorian.”  We shook hands.  

“That illusion outside, is that your handiwork?”

Jozan shook his head.  “No.  Qyvetiq provided that, and I daresay I would never have survived this long without it.  Are you with the Inquisition now?  I thought I heard...”

“Rumors?”  Qy nodded.  “Yes, I am with the Inquisition.  I keep telling myself I won’t get involved in the next big disaster and then, this happens.”  He gestured vaguely, though he almost seemed to wave his hand towards me.  He seemed to be joking, but wasn’t sure.  

“You can’t mean that you’d just sit idly by and let Corypheus tear the Fade apart?”

Qy shrugged.  “I’m helping, aren’t I?”

I sat beside him and Jozan took the final seat.  We talked.  Jozan clearly didn’t get much social contact, his conversation skills had become almost nonexistent.  I’d almost feared that he was one of Qy’s ex-lovers, but it soon became clear that this was not the case.  They were good friends, it seemed like Qy was probably Jozan’s only friend and the mage clearly appreciated the company.  He’d gathered a large number of fine wines and eagerly brought them out for us all to share.  Whatever his eccentricities, the man was a fine host.  We drank until it was almost morning and I was starting to fall asleep.  

*       *       *

Jozan bid us an awkward but heart-felt farewell and I started to walk Dorian back to the cottage at the crossroads.  He was so drunk and exhausted that I held much of his weight on my arm.  At least the rain had finally stopped and we’d both dried off while we talked to Jozan.  

Dorian watched the cottage once it came into view.  

“Is he...different with you?”

I knew he was talking about Bryce even without having to read his mind.  “He means well.  He cares about you.  Much more than he lets on.”  

Dorian snorted.  “So does my father.”

“I don’t believe that Bryce would ever go so far in his misguided methods.”

“That’s the thing, isn’t it?  He’s misguided.  I don’t know if I even care what he thinks of me; I can’t tolerate him if he’s going to be so...aggressive.”

“Give him a chance.”

Dorian pulled free of my grip, though he stumbled and had to lean on the stone wall beside us.  “I don’t think I can, Qy.  He’s out of chances.  You know he punched me last night?  And then...and then this thing with my father.  He even seemed decent on the way there, like he might have changed.”  He shook his head and turned his back to me moodily.  

“Dorian, he’ll be better, he just...just trust me on this.”  

He shook his head again.  “...you should know...I’ve thought about leaving just to get away from him.  I found a ship heading back to Tevinter.”

“Dorian—”

“You were sleeping with him!  Maybe he’s different then, I don’t know, but you’re hardly unbiased!  Can’t you see what he’s like, see how awful he is?  He’s compassionate sometimes, sure, but have you seen him around mages?  Does he even know that you’re a mage?”

“Yes.  Dorian, give him another chance.  At the very least, don’t leave because of Bryce.  You want to help the Inquisition.  Be an example, show southern Thedas that not everyone from Tevinter is bad.”

“And you can’t do the same?”

“No, I can’t.  When the world looks at me, they see a qunari, or a demon.  I can’t convince them that Tevinter isn’t all bad.”

He paused because he knew that was true.  I hugged him briefly.  “If Bryce ever hits you again, he will answer to me, all I ask is that you stay.  Talk to him.  Just give him one last chance, that’s all I ask.”

We went back to the cabin where Varric and Cassandra slept and Bryce pretended to sleep.  Dorian managed a few hours of rest while I didn’t even bother.  We left for Skyhold early the next morning.  With Dorian both exhausted and hung-over, I let him ride on my horse behind me, holding him in place with my wings as he slept.  He was too tired to decline the offer.  We seemed the focus of the near-silent journey.  Cassandra kept casting suspicious glares my way while Varric eyed me curiously.  I got the sense that he suspected I was now involved with Dorian, which wasn’t exactly the case.  Bryce probably had the same suspicion, judging from how often he looked over to scowl at me.  I did my best to convey the truth by gestures and facial expression and I think that I even succeeded.  He eyed Dorian, blushed and nodded.  I hoped that meant that he would talk to the mage, ideally admit to him how he felt, and hopefully those feelings would blossom into a romance.  They both deserved more happiness than I could give them.  


	16. A Bit of Fiendish Fun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started this story with the intention of having Bull be a more serious facet of the love-polygon, but that isn't how it's turning out and I think that's mostly because, honestly, I just don't really like writing Bull this way. I don't think we can be sure one way or another if the relationship that can develop between Dorian and Bull is or isn't abusive and I plan to write an abusive Bull/Dorian in my next DAI fic. I'll probably enjoy writing that version of Bull a bit more, so he'll definitely become a main character there, but in this one there won't be very much with him, so little in fact that I'm considering taking the pairing tags that involve him off the fic. That said, there will still be one sex scene involving him in the next chapter and maybe one more after that. I just don't enjoy writing him as a nice guy, which is kind of a shame, I suppose, because I usually prefer to think of him that way and he's one of my favorite characters in game. Sorry, again, to anyone who expected this to be heavily Bull/Dorian.

After how terribly my attempt to help him had turned out, I didn’t go talk to Dorian until we were back at Skyhold.  I felt awful about it now that I understood what his father had done.  I still wanted to know the whole truth, if he would talk about it, but I wasn’t going to force him.  I just wanted to apologize, and if things went well, maybe...maybe I could tell him how much I cared about him.  

I found Dorian in the library, in the alcove that he usually frequented, staring out the window.  

He noticed me, but didn’t glance up.  “He’s a good man, my father.  Deep down.  He taught me `principle is important.’  He cares for me in his way, but he won’t ever change.  I can’t forgive him for what he did.  I won’t.”  

“After all that...can you tell me what he actually did?”  I regretted asking as I finished the question, but to my surprise, he explained.  

“He tried to change me out of desperation.  I wouldn’t put on a show, marry the girl, keep everything unsavory private and locked away.  Selfish, I suppose, not to want to spend my entire life screaming on the inside.  He was going to do a blood ritual.  Alter my mind.  Make me `acceptable’.  I found out.  I left.”  

The very idea sickened me.  Kai had been right, this was even worse than the things our own fathers had done.  “Can blood magic even do that?”

“Maybe.  It could also have left me a drooling vegetable.  It crushed me to think he found that absurd risk preferable to scandal.  Part of me has always hoped he didn’t really want to go through with it.  If he had...I can’t even imagine the person I would be now.  I wouldn’t like that Dorian.”

I swallowed hard.  “Are you alright?”

“No, not really.”  He paused for a moment and then rounded on me, suddenly angry.  “You could have told me.  Taking me out there without a word, even if you didn’t know it would be him.  Why didn’t you let me decide?”

“I was trying to help, I’m sorry.”

“As am I.  I’ll pretend you weren’t secretly hoping I would patch things up and go home, but if you meant well...then thank you for the attempt.”  He stalked off and I didn’t have the courage to follow.  I’d...I’d tell him later.  I’d work up the nerve.  

*       *       *

I found Dorian in the tavern when I woke the next night.  The owls had laid three eggs while I’d been gone and they didn’t take too kindly to my residence so near their nest.  I tried to avoid them when I was not asleep.  My wings had not gone unnoticed.  The strangers around Skyhold who had previously scowled when I walked by now screamed at the sight of me.  Some fainted, some chanted prayers to their silent gods, some fled in terror.  A few drew weapons but none dared attack.  In the tavern, the fear was more sedate.  Many here knew me too well to expect an unprovoked attack.  That didn’t mean that they did not fear the demon they believed had passed as a friend.  Bull in particular scrutinized me.  His thoughts amused me.  The idea that he had considered a demon his friend terrified him more than he would ever admit, but he knew my sexuality, he knew that if I was unattached, as I was now, I would willingly sleep with him.  And the idea of `conquering’ a demon in that way...aroused him.  I’ll admit, the possibilities enticed me.  

I had had half a mind to discuss it with him that night, but I saw Dorian when I entered the tavern.  He was even more drunk than usual.  I sat beside him.  It was only midnight, but he hardly noticed me.  I’d only seen him this smashed once before, I did not expect him to remember any of this tomorrow.  He downed the last of his ale and started to ask for another.  I caught his arm.  “Dorian, you’ve had enough.”

He tried to glare at me, but he didn’t have the heart.  He just looked sad.  

“Did you talk to Bryce.”

Dorian nodded.  “Told him about what happened between me and my father.”  That surprised me, but it did explain why he was in such bad shape.  

“What did he say?”

He shrugged.  “He asked if it would have worked, apologized, said he’d `just meant to help.’”  There was such venom in his voice at the end of the sentence.  His father had been trying to do the same thing, in a way.  

“He’s not your father, Dorian.”  The mage stared up at me.  I felt like this conversation was better had in private.  “Let’s get you to bed.”  I picked him up, letting him try to walk, if he wished, but certain that he was too drunk to stand.  I led him out of the tavern towards his quarters.  “Bryce is becoming a better man, I believe.”

He snorted.  “I doubt that.”

“You two are more similar than you know.  Please give him a chance.  Get to know him better.”

“Bryce, Bryce, Bryce!  Do me a favor.  Stop talking about him for a bit.”  He kissed me before I could answer.  I could taste the cheap ale on his lips.  It was really awful stuff, I don’t know how he could stand it.  I’d had better in the slums of Denerim.  

I kissed him back, nearly at his quarters now.  Dorian managed to be surprisingly nimble when he was drunk, but only in one kind of situation and it had always managed to amaze me.  He couldn’t walk without leaning on me and yet he managed to wrap one leg around my back, over my tail and under the long, trailing fins of my wings.  He slid a hand down the front of my pants and I couldn’t help but get hard.  This shouldn’t happen.  He pushed me back against the doorway, not even in his room yet, and started to unbutton my pants.  He broke the kiss to bend down and I grabbed him by the shoulders, holding him at arm’s length in front of me.  “Get some rest, talk to Bryce.”  I opened his door, backed him over to his bed, sat him down and left, fixing my pants as I walked back to the tavern.  If he did that again, I wouldn’t be able to resist unless I had a different outlet.  Time to go see the Iron Bull.  

*       *       *

I’d seen a lot of strange stuff in my days of bar-tending, but that night was probably the weirdest.  The demon had no sooner hauled the drunk Tevinter away than he came back, and in quite a state, too.  He walked over to the Iron Bull, all calm despite the tent in his pants and those bloody wings.  He sat beside the drunk qunari and I half expected a fight.  If those two started a brawl, it wasn’t the sort I’d dare try to stop.  I would have needed an army to tear them apart if that happened.  That wasn’t what the demon had in mind.  He got straight to the point.  

“Sex?  Now?”

The Iron Bull stared at him for a moment.  “Alright.”  He downed the last of his drink and they left.  I cleaned a tankard.  Bloody horned men.  

*       *       *

We spent the next week at Skyhold.  I slept with Bull often enough that we developed a routine, every night around three I’d drop by and we’d go to his quarters for a while.  He usually went to sleep afterwards and I’d go hunt.  I saw Bryce sometimes, sometimes before Bull and sometimes after.  Each time I asked and each time he told me that he hadn’t found the right moment to tell Dorian how he felt.  I avoided Dorian as much as I hated to; I knew that the more time I spent with him, the more likely that we’d become involved and I couldn’t do that to Bryce.  

Sera, Cassandra, and the false Warden feared me.  I played a few hands of Wicked Grace with Varric, but he was preoccupied.  There was something going on with Hawke and Alistair and I suspected that we would soon need to deal with it.  I continued to avoid Solas, given what we both knew of each other, and I kept clear of Cole lest he delve into the darker parts of my mind.  I had avoided Vivienne thus far, but that plan failed tonight.  

I passed through her balcony on my nightly rounds and found she had remained there uncharacteristically late.  Apparently, her aim had been to catch me.  “There you are, demon.  What is it you want?”

“Want?”

“Yes.  No demon would help the Inquisition out of pure compassion.  You must want something, dear, what is it?”

“You expect a `demon’ to answer honestly?  I am no demon, that’s the truth.”

“I expect a demon to try to trick me, to lure me into possession, not to keep the same obvious ruse.  You clearly are a demon, why not admit it?  Why reveal your wings at all when you seemed to have everyone fooled?  What is your goal?”  

“My goal is to protect the people I care about.  I say again, I am no demon, and I do not care if you believe me or not.”

“Protection?  My dear, if you truly wished to protect anyone you would leave.  One demon was bad enough, I can’t begin to understand how foolish the Inquisitor must have become to welcome you as well, even knowing your true nature.  The man is clearly an idiot, but I had hoped that he had more sense than to do anything short of slay you on sight.  You must have him under some enchantment.”

“How dare you insult him!”  I started to snarl and sighed, forcing myself to be calm, although my lashing tail belied my agitation.  “I have no quarrel with you, we are on the same side.  We fight Corypheus.  So long as you do nothing to harm those I seek to protect, I will do nothing to harm you.”

“Nothing to harm me?  Dear, your very presence here is a threat, and one I will not abide.  You will leave tonight or face the consequences.”

I fought back a thunderous growl.  “My dear, you do not even understand what you are dealing with.  I am no demon, I am something far more powerful.  You know nothing about me.”

“I know you wish to possess me.  You want a body, all demons do.”

I snapped, flapping my wings and stepping towards her.  My fury raged the temperature of the air high enough that a feather that had flown in through the window burst into flame on a table nearby.  “Even if I _were_ a demon, I wouldn’t possess you if you were the last living think in existence!  I would rather share the body of a _sewer rat_!”

She shot a spell at me.  Lightning arched through the air, raking across my face and cracking one horn.  It left an array of crimson lines across one side of my face and shoulder where the electricity had burst my blood vessels.  I hardly felt the pain.  I smacked her, claws pulled back because I didn’t want to leave her scarred or kill her until I had a chance to warn Bryce of the hostility between us.  I could avoid her and I could escape her, but I did not want to kill her if the Inquisition still needed her aid.  The force of my hand knocked her unconscious and she collapsed.  I left her for someone else to deal with.  

I went to the tavern after that.  It was almost three, and I hoped that the usual fun with Bull might take my mind of the bitch.  I kept the freshly bloodied side of my body towards the shadows so no one would notice.  

When I arrived, I found Dorian.  Drunk and awkward, he was asking Bull something and I could easily guess what.  I walked over to them.  

“That does sound interesting, but Qy might have other plans.”  He looked at me, about to explain, but I suspected I already knew what he was going to say.  

“On the contrary, if you were discussing what I think you were discussing, than let me just say that I’m quite open to exploring certain...opportunities.”

Dorian hadn’t noticed me until I spoke and now he blushed.  “Oh.  I...wasn’t expecting that.”


	17. Suddenly, Cullen

We lost track of time, which was probably a good sign.  Sometime the next morning we were still going at it.  Around an hour after we’d started, someone had banged on the door and asked us to keep it down.  Bull and Dorian had both told the interloper to shove it, but the woman outside hadn’t heard them because I’d cast a spell so that no sound we made would leave the room until the door was opened.  As a result, we weren’t interrupted for the next several hours, and what a wonderful time that was!  

I’d made the mistake a few nights ago of telling Bull that Dorian didn’t know about the secret between my legs and as a result he helped facilitate my continued attempts to hide it from the mage.  He was drunk, and I didn’t want a repeat of what had happened the night we’d gotten off the ship.  He’d seen it then and things had ended badly.  This time I made sure that he didn’t see it.  After having sex every night of the previous week, Bull knew exactly where I was most sensitive.  He didn’t however realize the long crack in my right horn until he gripped it a little after sunrise.  I bit my tongue to keep from screaming.  At that point Bull had been thrusting into me and Dorian had been sucking me off, but they both stopped when they heard the garbled whimper and I slumped a bit.  Bull liked it rough, and he liked tying up his partners, so my wrists had been bound at the time, tied to a wooden support beam as were my wings.  The ropes held me in place enough that I couldn’t fall to the floor, so I remained half standing, leaning against the beam.  I didn’t mind pain one way or the other.  If my partner wanted to be rough, so be it, but when Bull put pressure on my cracked horn, it went way beyond a normal level of pain.  The initial injury hadn’t hurt.  The metallic chitin, the same substance that formed my scales, had snapped open from the surge of energy, super-heated for an instant to sear and cauterize the flesh where my horn met my skull.  The blood vessels within the horn had burst and some inside my brain may have done the same.  My natural resilience would have healed me enough that I would not die, but there would be bruising and the spike of bone within the metallic exterior of the horn would remain sheltered from the open air, as it should.  When Bull had gripped it, the previously cauterized remnants of the blood vessels in the bony core of the horn had reopened and it bled profusely, as any head wound would.  When he’d squeezed it, my vision had completely whited out in agony for a few seconds and it took me a moment to even notice that they were both talking to me.  

I heard Dorian first.  “What happened?  Are you alright?”  He’d stood up.  He had his hands on my shoulders.  I don’t think I’d ever seen him so worried.  

Bull had pulled out.  “Qyvetiq, can you hear me?”

I nodded a bit dizzily, gripping the horn and channeling my magic to heal it as best as I could.  I stopped the bleeding and mended the flesh and blood vessels, but could not repair the crack in the chitin.  “I-I’ll be fine.  Sorry.  It didn’t feel that bad when it happened.”

The light must have illuminated the distinct pattern of red on my face that would become a bruise.  Dorian somehow looked even more concerned.  “What happened to you?”

Bull frowned.  I suspect that he recognized the injury for what it was.  I shook my head.  “I’ll tell you later, let’s just get back to what we were doing.”

We did.  

Bull left that horn alone for the duration of the night.  He felt the other one carefully before shifting his grip to that side.  _That_ was much better.  Even drunk, Dorian started picking up on the little things that turned me on, like how sensitive my horns were and the way that the delicate skin of my wings was the most sensitive on the underside, on the golden fin where it met my lower back.  I noticed with a twinge of worry that I hadn’t seen Dorian sober even once since we’d returned from the Hinterlands, but just as I was thinking that, he ran his tongue along the delicate filament of my wing’s lower fin.  I shivered reflexively and he grinned at me.  I think he found this fascinating, having a lover with body parts that weren’t human.  And he didn’t even know about all of me.  

By midmorning I was in the middle again, my cock in Dorian’s ass and Bull riding me.  My wrists were tied together in front of Dorian and I was doing what I could to get him off that way as well.  My wings were tied to the support bean again, folded on either side of my body until they were untied.  For a while Bull had alternated how he slept with me, but now he knew how I liked it.  His cock pushed against the walls of my vagina until I could feel the pressure against the bones of my hips.  He was so huge it was almost painful.  He wasn’t gentle either, not that I had ever expected him to be.  He rammed into me like a wild animal, hard enough to add force to my thrusting into Dorian.  I didn’t have the leverage to keep my balance with my legs, so I braced my wings against the ropes to keep from falling forward.  Bull had my horn in one hand and he was stroking it while he slammed into me.  One of Dorian’s hands explored the sensitive membrane of my wing.  He managed to turn his neck to kiss me.  This was exquisite.  

We all came more or less in unison as the door opened.  

Frozen in the doorway, Cullen was met with three very surprised stares.  Out of surprise, I read his mind, so I knew that his mouth went dry.  “Well, at least you’re all...here.”  He swallowed and rapidly announced, “The Inquisitor and army will be marching for Adamant Fortress at noon, he would like all of you to accompany him.”  He tried to swallow again and made a sound that was almost a whimper.  “G-good day.”  Cullen shut the door and I heard him flee at a run.  

Bull summed everything up in a sentence.  “Well, that was awkward.”


	18. Striking Deals

I was usually the last to get ready, but I’d been on edge all week and just wanted to get this battle over with, so I ended up waiting by the gate, already packed and mounted, as everyone else slowly showed up.  Solas and Cassandra arrived next, predictably, followed by Blackwall and Cole, who I kept forgetting was there.  Sera’s fear of demons and Vivienne’s general attitude had meant that I didn’t invite them to join me for this.  Varric showed up next, to my surprise as Bull was usually more punctual.  Then again, everyone seemed off today.  I was early and Cullen had looked downright out-of-it.  Maybe the lyrium withdrawal was getting to him or something.  If it was, this was particularly bad timing, but that didn’t surprise me.  It often seemed that in my life, everything that could go wrong, would.  I was half afraid that Dorian wouldn’t show up at all after our last outing, but he arrived with Bull and Kai just before noon.  He looked exhausted, not that the others looked much more lively.  I found it a little disturbing to think that they’d had a long night.  My thoughts went to sex, but they’d probably just spent the night drinking.  

As Kai got closer, he distracted me from those worries.  The others noticed as well.  

Varric spoke first.  “Jeez, Qy, what happened?”

An intricate red pattern like a tree branch covered one side of his face, neck, and chest as well as the upper part of that wing.  The horn on that side was smeared with dried blood and it had a visible crack in it.  

Solas studied it curiously.  “It looks as if you were struck by lightning.”

Kai started to nod and then winced.  “Yeah, more or less.  Let’s just say that Vivienne doesn’t approve of me.”  

Dorian, who had seemed to be readying his horse while half asleep, suddenly seemed more awake.  “ _Vivienne_ did that to you?”

Kai looked at me.  “Vivienne did this.  I understand that you’re busy and I will do everything in my power to avoid her, resorting to spells if need be, but you should probably avoid taking us anywhere together.  I expect that, should we fight again, at least one of us would not survive.”  His tone was so grim that everyone but Solas seemed surprised.  We’d all either seen or heard about the way he fought, most of us had seen him rip something apart like a wild animal, but hearing him talk so seriously about killing someone without any of that raw fury...it was disturbing.  It was easier to understand his berserking rage than the cold brutality of his current tone.  He would kill her if he couldn’t avoid it and it didn’t sound like he hated her, it sounded like she was a tactical decision, an insect that had to be crushed to proceed with the more important task at hand.  That was terrifying.  

I studied the blossoming fractal bruises on his body and the crack in his horn, wondering how sensitive that was and deciding that I’d rather not know.  Maybe he was justified in that cold hatred.  I’d already passed Vivienne in the main hall today and she looked completely unharmed.  If he’d fought back at all, he hadn’t done anything serious, but she’d left him looking like this.  “Alright.  I’ll try to keep her away from you.”  

He nodded more carefully and we set out.  

Adamant Fortress was nearly four weeks away with the army traveling along with us.  It would have been closer to three weeks if we’d traveled alone, but we couldn’t take down a fortress without an army.  Although maybe Kai could have.  With such a large group, everyone always had someone to talk to, if they wanted to, and Varric soon came up with more than three dozen travel games and conversation starters.  

Kai and Solas seemed to avoid each other and I realized that I hadn’t seen them together at all since Kai had saved my life in the mountains.  On the morning of the second day, as we were packing after breakfast, Solas broke the silence.  

*       *       *

“I have heard many stories of you.  You recognize me and you know that I recognize you as well, but the stories contradict one another and the truth is obscured.  Are you an ally of the Inquisition?”  He spoke in ancient Tevene, and he spoke softly, probably so that Dorian wouldn’t hear and recognize the language.  

I hadn’t expected him to approach me and I was as frightened as I was fascinated when he did so.  At our very core, we had a great deal in common, but our most central beliefs opposed one another, often quite violently, just as often.  I was a very nationalist Tevinter man who had once hoped to see Tevinter rule all of Thedas with mages in power, slaves beneath them, and marvels like the world had never seen before built by those slaves’ suffering.  I had to admit that my view on that possible future had only shifted to one of indifference.  Luckily I cared more for individual people than for the future of my homeland.  And Solas not only despised slavery, but he disliked Tevinter for many reasons beyond that, not the least of which being its history with elves.  He was also my equal in power, if he didn’t outmatch me completely.  

I replied in ancient elven.  “I am an ally of many people within the Inquisition.”  He frowned and I elaborated.  “I do not serve organizations.  I serve no one but myself, serving others has led me to too many grave mistakes.  I protect those I care for.  I protect Dorian, and Bryce, and Varric, Cole, Bull, Sera, and Cassandra.  Perhaps even Cullen, Josephine, and Blackwall.  I do not wish to be your enemy.  I will not oppose you unless you actively work against me.  Are you my enemy?”

He seemed surprised to hear me answer in that language.  He continued in ancient elven after that.  “I would prefer not to kill one so unique as yourself.  I will not fight you unless you give me good reason to do so.”  We nodded solemnly.  We had reached an understanding.  

We both knew what the other stood for.  We kept to ourselves, but not quite as much as before.  Each of us had insights that could be of use to the other and I found myself chatting with him far more often than I had expected, discussing the intricacies of the Fade and what I was.  Most of the time, we spoke ancient elven.  

The night after Solas approached me over breakfast, Dorian came to my tent at night.  When there were only a few of us, it was more practical to share tents, but with all the extra supplies of the army and the drama that sharing tents would likely cause, Bryce had ensured that everyone could sleep alone, if they wanted that.  With my connection to the Fade back at full strength, I had stopped eating again.  I wouldn’t need to hunt until we reached Adamant, at this rate, so while the others finished dinner and talked, I went to my tent to read.  I wasn’t the only one leaving dinner somewhat early, Solas retreated as well, as did Cassandra.  I had spent most of the day talking; I wanted to be quiet for a while now, before I tried to sleep.  

As one couldn’t really knock on a tent flap, Dorian paused outside.  “Qy?”  He pulled the flap back and stepped inside when I answered.  The tent was fairly low, and I was sitting on my bedroll, so he knelt beside me.  I realized why he was here when he looked at the bruising and my cracked horn and sighed.  “She really did a number on you, didn’t she?”

He had a bag with him and he took a roll of bandages and a medical paste.  “I talked to the healers, but they won’t go near you.  Ignorant cowards.”  He started to reach towards my horn and I flinched away.  

“Let me bandage it.  I know I’m no healer, but...  This way I won’t be indebted to you.”

It was his usual bluster, I knew.  He couldn’t stand to see me hurt and he wanted to help, it had nothing to do with me having healed him before.  Or maybe it did, to some degree, but not the way he implied.  

“...alright.”  I sat still, flinching and choking back a scream when he touched the cracked chitin.  

“Sorry.”  He tried to be more gentle.  He had to press the split fragments together to bandage it and I shuddered uncontrollably, biting my tongue until I tasted blood.  My horn started bleeding again and I felt a trickle of crimson trace my jawline.  It was like he was setting a broken bone.  I closed my eyes and just tried to focus on my breathing as he got the bandage started enough that it would hold the crack shut on its own.  I think he put some of the medicine on the seam itself, but I only felt it when he gingerly smeared some over the skin at the base of my horn.  That skin had already healed almost completely, but I was still so agonized by the bandage holding my horn together that the pleasure only came through enough that my whimper became a gasp.  He mistook the emotion.  “I know it stings, I’m almost done, just let me bandage it...”

I swallowed blood from my lacerated tongue and stared ahead.  Once my horn was bound together, the pain started to fade.  He tied off the bandage and secured the edges with a weak adhesive before sitting down beside me.  

“I’m surprised you’re so timid about this, from what I’ve heard about how you fight, I thought you’d be more used to pain.”

“I _am_ used to pain.  I have a very high pain tolerance for most things, my horns are just very sensitive.”  I wiped the blood off my cheek, not caring that I pressed on the bruise in the process.  “This injury is roughly the equivalent of someone shooting lightning through your dick and then cutting it open.”

He winched at the imagery.  “Right.  That _would_ justify your reaction.”  Dorian fell silent and I took several minutes to get accustomed to the pain enough that I could turn my head to look at him.  When I did, he was grinning as if I’d given him a brilliant idea.  

“So your horns are...sensitive?”

I blinked slowly, starting to grin as well.  “A bit more than my wings, at the base.  You didn’t notice my reaction when Bull grabbed the other one?”

“I certainly noticed when he grabbed this one, I was a little distracted otherwise.”

He reached up to the other side of my head and stroked the skin at the base of my other horn.  I shut my eyes and shuddered in pleasure.  “Dorian...”

He kissed me and I kissed him back, tasting the blood from my tongue in his mouth.  He moved to straddle my hips and ran one hand along the fin of my wing as his other hand got bolder in its exploration of the skin at the base of my horn.  He traced one of the delicate bones of my wing fin until it met my back, followed the muscle down to my hips, ran his fingers along my iliac crest, and started to unbutton my pants.  Nope, not again.  I grabbed his hand and broke the kiss.  “Have you actually talked to Bryce yet?”

He gave me a baffled look.  “That has nothing to do with this!”

“It does.”  I narrowed my eyes a little.  “Dorian, he cares for you.  Romantically.  Even if he’s been too scared and stupid to admit it.  Talk to him.  I think he’s trying to change the way he’s been treating you.”

“`Trying’ doesn’t exactly guarantee an improvement.”  He sighed and put some distance between us again.  “Are you saying you won’t start anything with me unless I give Bryce a chance first?  I don’t even like the man!”  

I gave him a knowing look.  He met my stare for longer than I’d expected before he scowled.  “Damn you.  Fine, I admit that he...appeals to me.  Sometimes.  In my most idiotic moments, not that I have many of those.”  We shared another long stare and then he sighed.  “Alright.  I’ll talk to him.  But only once he finds the courage to actually approach me.  I give him a chance, and if that doesn’t work out, you give me a chance.  Fair?”

At the time, I was so certain that he and Bryce would be a great pair, that I agreed.  I guess I was becoming a bit idealistic in my old age.  

Dorian picked up on my discussions with Solas around the time we got into the desert.  Solas and I usually rode a bit apart from the rest of the group when we talked.  He tended to keep some distance from the others just due to his reclusive nature while I usually rode near the edges of the group so I could more easily spot danger.  Most of the time the wilderness around us kept our conversations private even if the others had been able to understand the language.  Things were quieter in the dessert when the air wasn’t blowing sand in our faces.  In the desert, we rode at night and slept by day, which suited me just fine.  There was less chance of heatstroke in the cold desert darkness.  

After one particularly long discussion on my unusual nature as neither a spirit nor a mortal man, Dorian piped up from behind us.  

“Are you speaking elven?”  He asked because he could barely hear us, which was why I answered.  

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Solas responded before I could, “So meddlesome Tevinters do not barge into our conversations.” 

I barely managed not to roll my eyes.  The elf had just managed to remind me why I did not consider him a friend.  But I was even less eager to have him as my enemy.  “Sorry, Dorian.  It’s nothing personal.”  I looked back at Dorian, painfully aware that I was pretty much his only real friend among the entire Inquisition.  I could see how hurt he was and I wanted to explain, even to lie, but refuting Solas outright risked the ire of a being that could almost certainly kill me without a second thought and pretending that we only spoke the secretive language to hide our conversation from someone other than Dorian could turn the entire group against me.  It was safer to assume that I would be able to get Dorian alone and tell him the truth, or some of it.  At least this conversation had revolved around my true nature and not something more private.  Dorian already knew that my nature involved magic in some way; any questions he asked could be answered with a simple `I don’t know’ if I could not be honest.  

The brief conversation had not gone unnoticed and the awkward hung in the air like suffocating smoke.  Everyone fell silent for a while.  No one in our little group said anything for over an hour.  Solas studied the horizon, apparently quite content with the silence, Cassandra and Bull kept a silent look out, as did I.  Varric observed everyone’s reactions, trying to determine some way of patching the verbal wound.  

Cole pondered the sky.  I think he was trying to distract us.  “Look at the stars.  Their light is very far away.  Some of them are gone now.”  

Dorian stared at him.  “I’m not even going to pretend to know what you mean.”

I tried to help.  “Some of the stars we see are dead.  They’ve been dead for hundreds of years, perhaps even ages or more.  We see only the light that they shed when they lived, they’re just so very far away that it hasn’t reached us until now.  It is almost a metaphor for how often things are not as they appear.”  

Everyone stared.  “Woah.” Bryce remarked softly, “That got deep quickly.”

I continued, “Likewise, stories get similarly diluted with time.  Villains become heros and heros become villains.  Stars fade out and constellations take on new shapes, as do the stories they represent.  Almost everything is a matter of perspective.”

“When you say things like that, I almost believe that we could be friends.”  Solas remarked softly.  I shrugged as those who had not heard his comment weighed in.  

“Right,” Blackwall groaned, “And I thought we might manage to have a normal conversation at some point today.”

Sera laughed.  “What are you smoking?  Where can I get some?”


	19. `Old' Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying a new method of separating narrators. Should I edit the other chapters to be like this, just use this method from here on, or go back to the old method? Is it clear who's saying what?   
> Also, if anyone has any suggestions as to whether I should leave the Bull-related pairing tags or take them out, please tell me. I'm leaving them in if no one says otherwise, but there probably won't me more of him in a sexual context. Probably. My writing likes to prove me wrong sometimes.

*       *Qyvetiq*       *

I approached Dorian that night to explain.  We camped in a canyon where the towering cliffs would shelter us from the heat of the sun.  As much as I liked the shade, this canyon unsettled me.  It was deep, the rock loomed above as if we were underground and the earth below seemed to call to me.  I could almost hear its song.  I knew the Calling that the Wardens heard and sometimes I heard it myself.  The one time I had entered the Deep Roads, I had feared that it would drive me mad.  It was almost as strong in this canyon.  I didn’t want to find out why that was.  I found that I needed almost all my strength just to stay focused.  

I had chosen to hunt today just to get away from it and the sun had already risen by the time I returned.  The camp was silent in the morning; almost everyone had gone to sleep for the day.  

I found Dorian in his tent, lying on his back, arms folded behind his head.  Thinking.  With my concentration so condensed on ignoring the song, I read his mind before I could stop myself.  He was wondering if he really should stay or if leaving would be better for everyone.  I stepped into his tent and closed the flap behind me.  

“I’m sorry.”

He glared at me.  

“I didn’t mean it like that, let me explain.”  He started to speak and I cut him off.  It had been an accident, I was too distracted by the Calling to realize that he’d wanted to say something, but I continued after I realized that I’d talked over him.  “I was talking to Solas about what I am, asking him what he thought my father did to make me this way.  I didn’t want the others to hear in case he thought I really was a demon, somehow.”

He was silent when I finished, and I knew that now he felt bad for having gotten so hostile.  “...Sorry.”

“I wanted to avoid letting the others know that and couldn’t think of a better lie than what Solas had already said.”  I hugged him for a few seconds and let him go.  “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

He sighed.  I think he asked me something, but I was distracted.  There was a scent on the air, something that stirred a primal fear within me.  Something incredibly foul.  I couldn’t place the memory over the haunting melody in my mind.  

Dorian shook my shoulder.  “Qy?  Are you alright?”

My eyes slowly focused on his face.  Before I could answer, someone screamed outside.  

“Darkspawn!”

Outside the camp was already overrun.  They had rushed from caves in the canyon walls like a swarm of insects, as wholly disgusting as the plague that they were.  Nothing terrified me so completely as the blight.  My instincts screamed at me to fly as soon as I saw them, to put as much distance as I could between myself and the ground.  It disturbed me to realize the most likely reason that they were here, in the same place that I could hear the Calling so clearly.  The last Blight had only been ten years ago, but if that meant what it seemed to, we would soon face another.  

Dorian drew his staff and I drew my axe.  

*       *Solas*       *

It felt like the middle of the night when the screams woke me.  Outside, tents were burning and the camp was overrun with a horde of darkspawn.  Our soldiers scrambled to put out the fires and grab their weapons.  Cullen, cautious as always, must have slept in his armor.  He led a group of men to try and keep the panicked horses from running off.  Cassandra, Bull, and Blackwall, predictably, charged about defending the rest of the camp as best as they could.  Cole joined them, darting about to stab them before fading from notice again.  Sera and Varric fired into the horde, the former more wildly than the latter.  She was just tired enough that her miscalculations could prove dangerous; I hoped that would not be the case.  Bryce, visibly groggy as well, waded into the seething mass of darkspawn, striking them down slowly but surely.  The man was incredibly durable, whatever my opinion of him.  He was a brute, but a brute could still prove effective as a leader.  I had seen that happen many times before, but I doubted that Bryce would ultimately remain a hero and not a tyrant.  He would crack under pressure; he had already begun to do so.  

Dorian and the one who called himself Qyvetiq emerged from the same tent.  I could feel the truth of this place.  We were deeper than any other canyon, deeper than some Dwarven cities.  This was the Deep Roads, even if it was open to the sky.  A great earthquake had rent the land long ago and left it exposed.  I had not foreseen that so many darkspawn would find us so suddenly.  I had been more distracted by the thing that lay hidden just beneath the piled stones.  It seemed appropriate to me that this one remained so close to the sky, or at least so close to a view of his precious stars.  I doubt that Qyvetiq understood the presence that he surely felt.  

I used my magic to shield the frightened soldiers as best as I could, but this was not a battle we could win.  The darkspawn would keep coming for us in greater numbers than we could match, we could only survive by striking camp and fleeing the canyon.  

Bryce surprised me by realizing this.  “There are too many of them!  Strike camp and flee to the North!”

Cullen repeated the command as did his commanders, and it echoed through the canyon like a desperate mantra.  The strongest among us held the area as the soldiers rushed onward.  My spells were mostly defensive; Dorian handled the offensive magic, wiping out dozens at a time with fire and lightning.  Blackwall, Cassandra, and Iron Bull waded into the fray with Bryce while Varric and Sera rained arrows into the horde.  I had expected Qyvetiq to join the warriors, but when he hung back to strike with waves of freezing cold, I was not surprised.  

I heard him speaking to Dorian as quietly as he could over the din.  

“I...I am not fond of darkspawn.”

The Tevinter mage hardly glanced at him when he replied, too focused on blasting a fireball at the latest wave of hurlocks and ogres.  “I don’t think anyone really _likes_ darkspawn.  You don’t see an ogre and go, `just what I was hoping for!  You shouldn’t have!’”

Qyvetiq managed a weak laugh and the melodramatic mage looked back just long enough to get a good look at his face.  

*       *Dorian*       *

Qy’s expression translated his terminology.  When he’d said “not fond of” he’d meant “scared shitless.”  As much as I didn’t like to admit it, I was terrified as well, most of the time I trusted that people like Qy and even Bryce would hold them off long enough that hopefully we wouldn’t all die.  Qy in particular had always seemed like he could take down anything.  Bryce had the same knack for survival that let spiders crawl back out of drains after you’d thought they were dead, but he didn’t exactly devastate enemies the way Qy did.  He’d chip away at an army and maybe eventually they’d all die, but that was just because they couldn’t quite manage to hack through his thick skull.  Qy, if stories were to be believed, tore dragons apart as easily as roast lamb, not that I’d ever seen him eat more than a raw turnip.  At least not that I could remember.  Up until now, I’d felt like I could face down an Old God as long as Qy was by my side.  It horrified me to see him so afraid.  

I shot another fireball and tried to look confident.  “Just pretend they’re all dragons.  Very tiny, ugly dragons.  You’ll do fine.”  

He chuckled weakly and whisked a blast of flickering cold off the blade of his axe, freezing an ogre solid for a few seconds.  “What wonderful words of encouragement, Dorian.”

The last of the soldiers surged past us and Bryce glanced back.  I followed his gaze for as long as I could risk.  The darkspawn didn’t seem to be coming from behind us, though the surged in through the caves ahead and to either side.  As long as we could hold them off, the army should be able to reach the surface again, and by now we were nearly at Adamant.  If we could manage one more day and night without a repeat of this disaster, we should have a fighting chance there, assuming we survived tonight.  

A new wave of ogres emerged and knocked Bryce back along with Blackwall.  Bull and Cassandra dove to cover them, but the line was broken.  Three ogres got past the wall of shields, blades, and armor.  One went for Solas, one for Sera, and one tried to go for me.  I say tried because an axe cleaved it in half before it managed to touch me.  

“Thanks for that.”

Qy didn’t hear my response.  It was like something had snapped inside him.  He shrieked deafeningly loud and dove for the next closest ogre, raking it with the claws on his feet and hovering near its horned head.  I’d never seen him stretch his wings all the way out— the delicate bones nearly brushed the canyon walls as he held himself aloft, stirring up clouds of dust.  I was glad I wasn’t the only one who had frozen at his shriek, it was so piercing that the entire battle had paused as darkspawn and humans alike covered their ears.  

Glancing back, I was glad that the army was out of earshot.  At a full run, they were visible only as a mass of retreating shade and dust.  It was time for us to get out of here as well, we’d held off the horde long enough.  

Qy was clearly afraid of the darkspawn, he clawed at the ogre’s eyes the way a kitten swiped at a fish when it was afraid of water.  He still managed to blind the brute.  The ogre that Qy wasn’t attacking knocked Sera to the ground with a single hit.  She didn’t get back up, I think she was unconscious, but I couldn’t really be sure while the swarm of darkspawn were advancing on us.  Cassandra hauled the fallen rogue onto her shoulders.  “We have to get out of here!”

Everyone but Qy broke in unison as another wave of ogres rushed from the caves.  Qy must have noticed or else he panicked when one of the ogres swiped at him and knocked him against the side of the canyon.  He shrieked again, more quietly this time, and a blinding jolt of electricity exploded outward from his body, decimating the horde below him and slamming the rock of the canyon walls.  The cliffs trembled above us.  

“Vishante kaffas!”

“If that doesn’t mean `run like hell’...”  Blackwall fell silent as a boulder crashed down in front of him.  We all shut up to focus on running, but it wasn’t easy.  The darkspawn stopped being a problem as they fell beneath the crushing rocks, the main issue fast became the ground, which dropped away beneath us as soon as our feet left it.  Sand filtered through cracks we hadn’t noticed and slabs of stone shattered and fell into caves and tunnels.  Solas warped the fade around him to speed his flight and Sera scrambled wildly enough that she somehow managed to keep up with him.  Varric stumbled and started to lag behind, but Bull grabbed him and picked him up, carrying him under one arm like a barrel.  In a moment where the ground beneath me seemed briefly stable, I glanced up to see if Qy was alright.  

*       *Bryce*       *

Somehow we made it out of the canyon.  The army waited for us on the surface, weapons drawn, watching the cascade of stone in silent horror.  We collapsed a short distance from them, all struggling to catch our breath.  I dropped my sword and shield and lay on my back, absently rubbing some dust from the mark on my hand.  Somewhere nearby Bull let Varric go and I heard the dwarf pant, “Thanks.  Let’s never speak of this again, alright?”  Cassandra sat heavily on a rock, still armed, cautiously watching what remained of the canyon for any pursuing darkspawn.  

Blackwall dropped his shield and rubbed his arm as Sera looked around.  “Fuck!  That was good, yeah?  Couple darkspawn- let’s bring the whole fucking canyon down, that’ll teach them, right?”  I hadn’t actually invited her, I remembered.  I guess she must have tagged along anyway.  At least she was being helpful.  

Solas seemed very still and quiet.  I could see him out of the corner of my vision.  Something moved by my ear and Cole stepped into my view as well, staring down at the settling dust.  “The stone fell too fast...”  As I caught my breath it slowly dawned on me what he meant.  

I leapt to my feet.  Sure enough, our somber little party was incomplete.  Neither Qy or Dorian had rejoined us after the canyon.  

*       *Dorian*       *

I must have passed out.  I felt hung-over and then I noticed the warm damp of my hair and realized that I wasn’t.  The ground had dropped out from beneath me and I’d fallen into a hole.  Something must have struck my head, or maybe my head had banged against something when I’d fallen.  It was dark, mostly, but the ledge I was on lay beneath a hole to open sky ten feet above me.  I heard the boulders shifting and settling and little streams of dust drifted down into the abyss, catching the light.  There were no darkspawn here, but I wasn’t alone.  Beyond the dazzling light through the hole above me, the cavern was pitch black.  I couldn’t see anything, but I sensed a vast chamber, carefully locked away and hidden.  The air was stale, I could practically taste the history.  It made me gag a little.  

There was something enormous in the dark.  It wasn’t awake, maybe it wasn’t even alive, not in the normal sense of the word, but it was there.  It might have been a spirit.  I heard something very quiet that might have been breathing or a distant song, but the hulking shadow didn’t move.  Even so, I felt like it was watching me.  As my eyes adjusted, the shape took form.  It was a dragon.  No, I realized, not a dragon.  I knew what it had to be and I didn’t want to believe it.  I had to get out of here, seal the hole, lock the damned thing away so nothing would find it, at least not for another hundred years, not until I was long dead and the Gray Wardens weren’t being controlled by an insane magister with a god-complex.  

I tried to stand and nearly screamed.  My leg had crumpled beneath me, the knee twisted to the side.  I couldn’t tell if the bone was broken or if it was just torn out of the joint, but I knew I was stuck here.  Stuck here in a cavern that might collapse at any minute, darkspawn above me and something...something that should never have existed sitting across from me.  I had no idea where Qy had flown off to, I just hoped that he’d find me down here as easily as he spotted everything else.  

I waited.  

Gradually, the heat gave way to the bitter cold of the night.  My leg stopped hurting.  Soon enough, I realized that I couldn’t feel it at all and started to worry about that.  For a while during the day I heard movement.  Dust settling, pebbles shifting, even a small rockslide that I had expected might foretell my doom, but the rocks above me stayed in place.  Somewhere darkspawn were moaning as they died, or at least I hoped they were darkspawn.  For all I knew, none of us had made it out alive.  That could be Qy out there, moaning in agony, but it didn’t sound like him.  

I stared at the sky as the stars started to come out, more than a little hungry and dehydrated by this point.  I’d been less miserable when I’d first arrived at Haven, and that was saying something.  I might even have been less miserable on the boat, crossing the Waking Sea.  

I really hoped that Qy would find me soon, if he was still alive.  

Bryce would have left.  If they lived, everyone would probably have left.  They would figure I was dead or not worth bothering to rescue.  Except maybe Cole.  Cole would have risked his life to save practically anyone.  But it had been half a day; surely it was midnight already.  If anyone had bothered to look at all, they’d given up and moved on by now.  

I was starting to get really dizzy.  

It didn’t help that after a few hours, the thing in the dark seemed almost alive.  It was still asleep, if that was really the term for it, but it had started off almost...empty.  Like a house while the occupant was somewhere else.  Now it seemed almost aware.  Eyes were difficult to make out in the dark and they seemed as black as the rest of the thing, but I could feel them watching me, or maybe I was just hallucinating.  

I started talking to it after a while, in a probably misguided effort to distract from the heat and thirst.  

“So, which one are you exactly?”

No response but that quiet song-like breathing.  

“Only two left, I suppose.  Shame about your siblings, but I suppose you’ll join them soon enough now.  At least _I’m_ not a darkspawn.  Might buy you some time.  Maybe you can wake up, get out of all this?”  I gestured around at the precarious rock above us.  I had the most unsettling sensation that the slumbering behemoth was genuinely considering my offer.  

“Not...not while I’m here, of course.  Unless you plan to get me out of here.  I’d rather not have to worship you or anything, you understand, I hope, but if you feel like waking up, I wouldn’t mind a trip back to civilization.  Maybe not Tevinter, per-say, but beggars can’t be choosers.  I suppose you would be going there if you woke up now, wouldn’t you?  They’d probably worship you again if you did.  The Divine would shit a brick if you showed up like that, just flew into town and picked up where you left off.  Both Divines, really, assuming one was crowned by then.  I doubt they’ll decide so quickly.  Politics and everything; it never changes.  I suppose you know, don’t you?  If you’ve had some way of keeping an eye on everything, as it were.  Though you _have_ been living in a cave, asleep, for the past few ages.  If this is beauty sleep, you must look ravishing by now.”  I laughed and had the strangest sense that it somehow appreciated the humor.  That had to be blood loss.  Or maybe I’d hit my head harder than I’d thought.  

“You never did tell me which one you were.”  The nearly silent song of its breathing changed to form an answer I refused to hear.  I scrambled to my feet, cracking scabs, one leg awkwardly dragging behind me as I leaned on the terrifyingly unsteady stone heaped beside me.  

“Qyvetiq!  You had better be out there, Qy!  Help!  Someone!”

*       *Bryce*       *

We heard him shouting and I was off.  The others had camped just beyond the canyon to wait when I’d insisted that we would wait at least a day to look for them.  Cassandra and Cole went with me.  I wanted to yell at the others, force them to help as well, but I knew they were right.  All of them realized that it was too dangerous and that I was probably clinging to a false hope.  Dorian and Kaivetik were dead and I was just in denial again.  They understood, but they wouldn’t risk their lives chasing ghosts.  Cole helped because he was compassionate and because he was light on his feet.  I wasn’t even sure he could get hurt if the rocks slid, or if they even would slide beneath him.  Did he have any weight at all?  Cassandra helped me search because she was loyal.  She wouldn’t sit idly by if I was going to risk my life on the slim chance that even one of them might somehow be alive.  

I heard the cries first and ran to them, sprinting over the shifting rock and feeling it slide out from under me.  

“Wait!”  I ignored Cassandra.  I heard her following more carefully and didn’t look back.  Cole ran by my side, almost catching up.  

He came to a halt as the rocks beneath me gave way.  I slid down a newly created slope, smacking into Dorian at the bottom and nearly knocking him over.  He swore.  

*       *Dorian*       *

Bryce?  Really?  Of all people?  Still, the sight of him left me overjoyed.  I guess I was just glad that I might get out of here.  Behind me, the alarming sentience I had felt seemed to have vanished.  It was asleep again, though I didn’t want to acknowledge that it was there at all.  

“Dorian!  You’re alive!”

I looked back to Bryce, “ _You?_   You came looking—”

He kissed me full on the lips, cutting me off mid sentence.  It wasn’t half bad.  I froze in shock as he broke the kiss and looked back up the slope where Cole and Cassandra appeared seconds after each other.  

“We have to get you out of there!”  Cassandra shouted and pointed to the boulders around us, which had started to slide towards the pit.  

Bryce grabbed my hand, failing to notice my leg.  “Come on!”

Cassandra grabbed Cole, Cole and caught Bryce, and somehow we managed to scramble all the way to solid ground over the horribly shifting sea of stone.  We collapsed, panting, until we could breathe again.  I vaguely noticed a group of healers rushing towards us as I managed to sit up.  Even through the cloud of settling dust, it was clear that the hole had been filled in.  Good.  Hopefully it would stay sealed off for another millennia or so.  

Now I was more concerned about what the hell had prompted Bryce to kiss me.  Had the stress of leading finally driven him mad, or had me looks just become irresistible?  If I was that tantalizing, I would have to tone it down.  I didn’t want Corypheus asking me out for drinks, for Andraste’s sake!  

My leg turned out to have been dislocated at the knee, not broken.  The healers got to it on Bryce’s orders (they almost ignored me before he spoke up.)  They had to pop it back into place and I suspect that they enjoyed agonizing me like that, but they managed to fix it enough that I could walk.  The cut on my head was more minor, despite the bruise around it and the rest of my cuts and scrapes weren’t worth more than a bandage.  All in all, I was more eager to have a drink once my leg could hold me.  I wanted ale, but Varric thwarted me.  

“You haven’t eaten anything all day, you need water.”  I was too thirsty to argue.  I refilled my water skin twice and ate a light dinner before I finally felt like I could talk to Bryce without embarrassing myself by passing out.  

I found him in his tent, lying on his back, half asleep.  More because my leg surged with pain while I remained standing, I sat beside him.  “First you risk your own life to save me and then...a kiss?”  I shook my head.  “Are you just trying to confuse me or are you truly insane?”

He propped himself up on his shoulders to look at me and I could tell he was just as exhausted as I was.  “I’m not trying to confuse you, Dorian.”

“Well, what _are_ you trying to do, Bryce?  Most of the time, you seem to hate me, and then...then you do stuff like this.”  I shook my head.  “What am I supposed to think?”

He sat up a little more and I started to think he might be drunk.  He certainly smelled like ale, but so did practically everyone tonight.  I guess it had been that kind of day.  I should be drunk myself.  “You’re very brave, Dorian.  A lot braver than I am.  I guess people seem more...open down here, but...”  He sighed.  “In the Free Marches, at least in my family...it isn’t accepted to like...men.  I guess I try to hide it.  I’m sorry, I really don’t mean to insult you, I just don’t trust magic, and I was...I was afraid that people would notice...would notice how I felt about you...”  

If I hadn’t been so exhausted, I might have taken a leaf out of his book and punched him.  “So all that bluster, all that talk about blood magic, all those insults, those were...what?  A damned smokescreen?!”

“You’re cute when you’re angry.”  He pulled me into a kiss.  I raised a hand, sorely tempted to smack him for that...but I couldn’t do it.  My hand landed on his thigh.  

I guess we’d see where this went.  

The next morning Cullen announced that we’d reach Adamant within the day.  

People had noticed that Bryce and I had emerged from the same tent.  They whispered openly when I walked by and I got even more dirty looks than usual.  At least I was already used to it.  

Qy didn’t return that day, but there wasn’t time to mourn.  Bryce was just glad I was back alive and I couldn’t help but appreciate the same small miracle.  We had to face an army later today, we would mourn Qy on the way home.  Some small part of me still hoped he’d just flown away, given his tendency to leave, or at least given that he’d disappeared on me once before.  I guess part of me felt like he was immortal somehow.  I had no idea at the time how right I was.  

Bryce rode beside me as we got underway.  The others must have heard us last night, or else they just understood because they kept their distance.  

Bryce spoke first.  “So...what is this between us?”

I laughed.  “I’d been about to ask you the same thing.”

He hesitated.  “I...I can be okay with this, I think.”

“This?”

“Us.”

“`Us’?  Is this us as a...diversion, or...?”

He shook his head.  “Us.  Just `us’ as `us’.”

I raised an eyebrow.  “Avoiding the question?”

“I answered.”

“`Us’ is not an answer.”

“Us is answer enough.”

“Then you must have spent too much time with Qy, because `us’—” 

He cut me off, staring forward.  “Look.”

Adamant Fortress loomed ahead.  


	20. That Old Black Magic

*       *Qyvetiq*       *

I don’t remember much of the fight with the darkspawn.  Fear and instinct blinded me.  I remember that I panicked.  I drew magic from the Fade, almost more than I could handle, and the canyon collapsed around me.  Looking back, I suspect that collapsing the canyon saved the army; the darkspawn would have chased them and outstripped the stamina of the exhausted men.  They would never have made it to Adamant, and those few who had would have faced an army there as well.  I didn’t understand why so many darkspawn were in that canyon and part of me didn’t want to know.  I feared it.  I feared everything about the blight, for the most part.  When the rocks fell, I fled.  I flew from the desert as fast as my wings could carry me.  I tasted blood and couldn’t tell if it was mine or theirs.  I saw it on my claws, on my wings, on my chest.  I practically crashed into a lake and I think I nearly drown trying to clean it off of me.  I came to my senses on the shore, shaking, my head pounding with adrenaline and the blood pouring from my reopened cracked horn.  I must have passed out.  

When I let my body rest, my spirit sometimes remained within me and sometimes went somewhere else, somewhere dark and usually cold.  When my spirit lost the energy to animate my body, it lost all awareness for a while.  I think it went back to the Fade sometimes when that happened.  I didn’t remember the last time I had passed out, but I don’t think it had been like this.  I didn’t dream.  I had read about dreams, I had heard stories that when people dreamed, their spirits wandered the Fade.  I don’t think that my spirit was capable of that under normal circumstances.  I had often imagined what it would be like to dream, but never experienced one.  

That night, while my body lay unconscious on the shore of an Orlesian lake, I think that I somehow managed to dream.  I remembered little when I woke.  This time my spirit did not retain only a sense of something cold and dark and dry.  I remembered Dorian.  He’d spoken to me, hurt and afraid.  He had asked things to the spirit that was me and screamed when I finally garnered the strength to answer.  

I didn’t understand how I’d received the vision, but I thought that I grasped why it had come to me.  I don’t know if I would have gone back without it.  I had lived too long, I wanted no part in the pivotal decisions of this world, I sought only to study their outcomes.  I was no hero, merely a scribe.  My time had come and gone, and I did not wish to change the world any further.  I wanted to watch it peacefully, to leave the Inquisition I had never intended to join and leave its fate to fate itself.  I could not remain around Bryce and Dorian without preventing them from forming their own relationship.  They could not be happy with each other until I was gone, and I wanted them to be happy.  

The vision reminded me that I could not live with myself if I let them die.  I had to avoid them, but I also had to protect them.  Maybe I could somehow keep my distance, observe their battles from afar and cast lightning if one of them would fall.  I could think of some way to make it work, couldn’t I?  I had to.  

I flew towards Adamant with this in mind.  My eyes were good, better than any human’s.  I remained a speck to their vision, to high to identify, while I could have counted the bristles in each soldier’s mustache, picked out their eye color, or read the names of each commander off their armor.  

I approached Adamant before the Inquisition arrived, but I saw that the Wardens had been warned.  The ramparts were fortified, but that was hardly my main concern.  

The sky around me boiled with clouds as the sun set, but scent and sound showed me my enemy before sight could trace her shape.  Corypheus’ false arch-demon circled the fortress, waiting to strike.  

*       *Bryce*       *

Alright.  This was it.  At least we’d had a chance to prepare for this battle.  Cullen’s forces broke down the gate and we rushed in.  The fight was easy enough this far out, but we all knew we’d face worse the further we went inside and we were right.  

On the parapets, we saw a pride demon.  After how well the last one had gone, everyone but Bull and Blackwall stopped dead at the sight.  The last one had nearly killed Kai, and now that he was gone I felt certain that this one would be my doom.  Luckily, that wasn’t the case.  

The last thing I had ever expected dropped out of the sky.  At first I mistook him for a trebuchet projectile, except that he came straight down from the sky, veering to the side at the last second to ram the demon and knock it easily off the wall.  Not even a pride demon could survive that fall.  

“What the—?!”  Blackwall halted, sword raised, ready to strike what he expected to be a new enemy.  Cassandra and many of the other raised their weapons as well, fearing the same.  All but Dorian, Varric, Cole, and myself, as I recognized him.  

“Kai?!”

The winged not-demon swooped over us and perched nimbly on the very edge of the fortress wall.  Most of the others echoed my shout.  

“Where the hell have you been?!”

It was Dorian who added that outburst and more than he and I had similar notions in mind when he cut us off.  “Not now.  I can tell you afterwards, I’m here to warn you.  The dragon is here.”

I stared, dumbfounded.  “What?!”

“Corypheus’ dragon.  It’s here.  It’s circling the fortress, waiting for a signal, I’d wager.  I’ll do my best to deal with it, but no guaranties.  The damned thing’s no typical dragon, it could have the blight, I’m not sure.”  He took off at that, rising into the clouds before I could say another word.  I hadn’t really gotten a chance to see him fly before, and it mesmerized me.  I wasn’t sure if I found it strange or disturbing or just...majestic.  

“The parapets are cleared,” Solas pointed out beside me, “We should get moving.”

“Right.”

I don’t think Dorian or myself were really at our best for the rest of that battle.  Once again, we came to believe that Kai was dead, all evidence pointed to that, and then he shows up out of nowhere with no explanation at all this time.  Did he even realize how worried we’d been?  Did he even care?  Dorian summed up my thoughts with an exasperated sigh.  “That man is infuriating.”  

I watched the skies as we fought our way to Warden Commander Clarell, but saw no sign of Kai or this dragon.  The stormy clouds were silent above us.  

We found Clarell and did what we could to stop her.  I’m still not sure if that was really a victory or not, people were sacrificed, demons were summoned, but I guess we managed to save a few wardens in the process.  They opened a rift at the tower and brought forth a demon; we convinced Clarell too late, in my opinion.  

But Kai had been right.  As soon as Clarell started to doubt, Erimond called down the dragon.  Kai had been fighting it in the sky, but it still answered, except that instead of focusing solely on me, it had a black-winged opponent in its own domain.  Like a starling driving off an eagle, Kai harried it in the air, though it hardly seemed to notice him.  It swooped into view and tried to breathe at us, but Kai raked his claws across its wing, making it flinch and forcing the great beast to veer aside and come back for a second pass.  Clarell and Erimond rushed off to fight.  I think she was trying to stop the dragon, but couldn’t be sure.  Even if Clarell hadn’t been our best chance to get the wardens back under control, I wanted to kill Erimond myself.  I had to follow them.  

Still, a demon had been summoned, and it was another pride demon, too.  That had to be dealt with carefully.  I glanced around, picking the two people closest to the stairs without a second thought.  “Dorian!  Solas!  You’re with me, everyone else, stop the demons!”

*       *Qyvetiq*       *

In hindsight, I would probably have fought more competently if I hadn’t been so focused on keeping an eye on Bryce and Dorian below me.  That lack of focus bit me in the ass, quite literally, as they reached the top of the fortress and I dropped into an easy glide to watch some lady in blue and white beat up the asshole magister.  The asshole magister with the cliche black beard and Blight-themed lies, to be specific.  I really should be more specific when it comes to asshole magisters.  

The dragon took advantage of my lapse in attention.  It bit me, crumpling one wing in its jaws and slicing everything between my ribs and thighs.  Adrenaline numbed the pain enough that I neither screamed nor missed the opportunity to claw its eyes before it dropped me to grab the woman below.  I was on my feet as Bryce, Dorian, and Solas rushed towards me.  

“I’m fine.”  The response was reflexive at this point and a poor bluff.  My left wing hung mangled and bloody from the side of my body.  My cracked horn had started bleeding again and half my face was covered in that blood.  The dragon had mangled my clothes and skin even if it hadn’t done serious damage to anything but my ruined wing.  I highly doubt that any of them really believed I was fine.  

The dragon crouched, eyeing us.  Everyone braced to fight it.  

I’d dropped my axe, so I readied my claws instead and bared my teeth.  No part of me believed that this dragon had even the slimmest chance of killing me.  I was just here to make sure it didn’t kill my friends.  

Somehow Clarell was still alive.  She rolled over between us as the beast approached.  I couldn’t hear what she was saying and didn’t bother to listen.  

The dragon pounced and as it soared over her, the Warden blasted its belly with magic.  The dragon flew over us and tumbled off the Fortress, cracking the stone which started to crumble beneath us.  My instinct to fly stole the few seconds when I could have run.  I stumbled forward, but it was no use.  We were all falling now.  

*       *Bryce*       *

I hit the ground in a strange place.  

Dorian spoke from somewhere nearby.  “I have the strangest feeling of deja vu...”

He must have looked around because he trailed off.  

“Where exactly...?”  I nearly fell over as I realized that I was standing upside down.  As soon as the thought crossed my mind, I tumbled to the ground and righted myself.  

Solas marveled at the place around us.  “The Inquisitor opened a rift.  We went through and...survived!  I never thought I would find myself here physically.”  He surveyed the area, “Look, the Black City, almost close enough to touch!”  The damned elf was like a kid in a sweet shop.  

“That’s not good.”  I dusted myself off.  “Didn’t the last people who walked into the Fade start the Blights?  Besides, if this is the Fade, it’s decidedly creepy.”

Solas seemed to note that.  “What spirit commands this place?  It’s not like anything I remember.  Perhaps some sort of fear demon?”

Hawke approached me as I did a headcount.  “The stories say you walked out of the Fade at Haven.  Was it like this?”

I shrugged.  “Who knows?  I can’t remember.”

Looking around, I saw Solas, Dorian, Hawke, and Alistair, who seemed more than a little unsteady as he got his bearings on a rock above us.  Once again, Kai had vanished.  

“Do you think it’s possible that Kai might have been able to fly...?”

Everyone realized why I was asking and Alistair looked around.  “Shit.”

Dorian sighed.  “Is there any chance he might have just...ended up somewhere else?  Around that freakishly green rock, perhaps?”

Hawke and Alistair looked at me, but Solas answered, “It _is_ possible that Qyvetiq may be...attached to some more distant part of the Fade, although if that is the case he may not be able to find his way back...”

“He’ll find us.”  I started walking towards what seemed to be a path, hopefully it would lead us out of here.  I’d said that, and tried to sound confident, mostly to reassure everyone.  Kai had already proven that he cheated death on a regular basis, who was to say that he wouldn’t somehow resurface after this?  I didn’t want or need Dorian, in particular, mourning his death yet again while we were trying to get out of here.  I couldn’t stand to watch him suffer; it was better that he had hope, at least for as long as he could.  

*       *???*       *

I had fallen into pain.  My body felt like it was being torn apart, not just ripped limb from limb, but split muscle by muscle, nerve by nerve, every smallest particle rent from the others.  It was agony.  I had felt great physical pain before, but this was not just that.  My physical body felt like it was being ripped apart, but so did my spirit.  

Seconds felt like hours, minutes like eons.  At first I screamed until the sound stopped coming.  I wanted to fight, but there was nothing to be fought.  I lay down, curled up, and let the pain wash over me.  Was this what death felt like?  Eternal agony?  

But it wasn’t eternal.  Slowly, so gradually that I barely noticed, the suffering eased.  Flesh mended and took form as I willed it.  Spirit reshaped and settled back into my body, more comfortably and more naturally than ever before.  I dared to open my eyes and felt the world around me react to my desires.  

*       *Dorian*       *

We were indeed in the realm of a fear demon, it seemed, one that served Corypheus.  It had taken Bryce’s memories and we’d finally gotten them all back.  I was just thinking how grateful I’d be if I never dealt with giant spiders again when the Fade around us seemed to change.  

First the skies darkened, not in a stormy sort of way, more the way that skies darkened at sunset, but there was no night or day in the Fade.  A quiet hum like a distant melody began to reverberate through the air, haunting and lovely.  

I paused to listen.  “I’ve heard that before...”

Alistair stared at me in shock.  “ _You’ve_ heard that before?”

“Yes.”  I frowned quizzically.  Would he believe me if I told him the truth?  Probably not.  “ _Once_ before, though I can’t quite place when.  Why?”

The Warden seemed to calm.  “It’s the Calling.  I’m...surprised to hear it so...audibly here.”

Hawke scoffed.  “This _is_ the domain of a fear demon, right?  Maybe it’s messing with you.”  

“Wouldn’t surprise me.”  Bryce growled.  The Fade was getting to him.  It was almost amusing to watch him here, frustrated and hating magic.  He looked at the sky, which had shifted from a golden-green haze to a deep indigo dappled with stars, a perfect imitation of a cloudless night sky.  “Is he trying to prey on someone’s fear of the dark?”

Solas answered, frowning.  “That doesn’t seem like the fear demon’s handiwork.  I suspect that a different spirit may be here as well.”

More smaller fear demons showed up then in the guise of spiders and we ceased conversing to fight.  

“Let’s just get out of here,” Bryce panted as the last of the spiders was killed.  “The last thing we need is another demon in the area.”

We continued towards where we hoped we’d find the rift home and I walked over to Alistair.  “Have the wardens located all the sleeping Old Gods?”

He frowned a little and nodded.  “Yes.  They were going to kill the last two with that demon army, not that Corypheus would have given them that chance.”

“Do you, personally, know where they are?”

“Why?  Is that how you think you heard the Calling?”

“It is entirely possible,” Solas interjected, “There was an Old God in the canyon where we were overrun by darkspawn.”

Alistair hadn’t quite heard about that yet, but I was more surprised that Solas apparently knew that as a fact and hadn’t thought it important enough to mention.  Bryce seemed to share my feelings as we both turned to the elf and yelped in unison, “What?!”

Alistair frowned.  “You were swarmed with darkspawn?  This canyon wouldn’t happen to be just northeast of the Western Approach, would it?”

He sounded a little panicked, so I remarked somewhat grimly, “Relax, it was buried in a landslide that brought down most of the canyon.”

“You saw it, then?”

Bryce stared at me.  “You _saw_ an Old God?”

“I don’t _know_ if it was an Old God, I’m not really sure I want to believe that even if it’s true.  I saw _something_ in that pit where you found me, something very big, and it made that sound.  I can’t be sure what it was, but it felt...powerful.  It’s buried now, and hopefully it stays that way for a while.”  

Hawke drew us all back to reality as the dark blue of the sky started to take over the dominant green of the scenery around us.  “There!  The rift!”

The rift was indeed ahead of us, but so was something else.  Massive, disgusting, and many-eyed, it was clearly the Nightmare.  The spirit that resembled the dead Divine flew at it and yelled something to Bryce before she disappeared.  

The Nightmare loomed between us and the rift.  That thing was huge.  We had to fight if we had any chance of surviving at all, but I already felt certain that there was no way all of us were getting out of here alive.  A smaller aspect of fear approached us, not as powerful as the whole monstrosity but nowhere near as weak as the spiders.  The Nightmare wanted to toy with us, this was just perfect.  

Bryce and Alistair charged towards it, but the two never met.  A shadow detached from the sky above and descended to float between us and the demon.  A shifting mass of dark color and stars, it slowly took form.  

*       *???*       *

I settled between the fear demon and my friends.  They would each see me differently, but I did not chose my form to frighten, as the fear aspects had.  Hawke would see a starry void, like a living shard of the night sky, ever-shifting and changing.  To Alistair, I would appear as a great starry owl, the aspect associated with my real body in ancient myths.  I doubted that the Warden, for all his fascination with old legends, would recognize my true identity.  Bryce would face a great dragon, arguably my most real incarnation, a massive beast cut from the night with shining lavender stars as my eyes.  Solas might well see my true form, I could never fool his sight in the Fade.  

*       *Dorian*       *

The shadow shrank and solidified into a man, an achingly familiar man even if his skin and clothing were replaced with star-speckled black.  His eyes were stars as well, though they kept their color.  He shook his horned head and stared the demon down.  

“Release them!”

Bryce frowned in confusion as the fear demon snarled a response I couldn’t understand.  

“What are they saying?”  I don’t know how I had missed it, but as Qy spoke again, I realized why Bryce hadn’t understood.  

“They’re speaking _Tevene_!”

The dialect was barely intelligible; in his first sentence it had been almost modern, but I caught words that predated my own knowledge of the tongue.  What I could translate of his response amounted to “You have no power over me!”  He said something else as well, something that almost referred to a debt, but that didn’t make sense.  

The demon growled an answer, something grudging that seemed to be mostly curses.  

Qy, or the spirit pretending to be him, stomped one clawed foot and sent twisting arcs of shadow across the area.  The fear demon shrieked.  

“You will let them go.  Now.  All of them.”

The demon gave the first clear response I had heard from it.  It answered with one quiet, hate-filled word.  “Lusacan!”

There was no fucking way.  I looked back at the spirit in the form of Qy to find it staring back at me, and I swear the thing was grinning, that same infuriatingly charming smirk that the real Qy had.  

“Dorian!”  Bryce grabbed me bodily and dragged me through the rift as the others fled with him.  I caught one last glimpse of the spirit that could no more be Qy than it could truly be the Dragon of the Night before we found ourselves back at Adamant Fortress.  


	21. A Preemptive, but Appropriate Requiem

*       *Bryce*       *

I exiled the remaining Wardens after everything they had done.  Given what Qy had said at the tower in the Western Approach, it seemed like he would have wanted that.  

Dorian wasn’t happy about it.  He came to my tent after everything was settled.  We’d be returned to Skyhold by carriage while the army cleaned up the ancient fortress and marched back.  Switching out horses at every major city and town and riding through the night, we should make it back within twelve days.  We’d board the carriages tomorrow at dawn, for now we set up our tents to sleep.  

Dorian probably would have preferred to talk to me outside, but dealing with the Wardens and listening to Cullen’s debriefing ran past midnight and by that point I was exhausting with everything I’d been through today.  I went to my tent with every intention of getting some much-needed sleep.  

Dorian pushed back the flap and stepped inside.  “You exiled the Wardens?  What happens if there’s another Blight?”

“You really saw an Old God?”

“What if I did?  If that _thing_ really was...  What then?  You saw how close it was to the surface, if that thing was an Old God, if it gets corrupted...”  He shook his head.  “Bryce, the next Blight could be in a matter of _days_ , and you just exiled the last few Grey Wardens!  Who’s going to stop it if— _when!_ — it does happen?!”

I stood and approached him.  I guess he could tell what I was planning to do, because he held up a hand.  “No.  You don’t get out of this that easily.  What were you thinking?!  I don’t approve of blood sacrifice any more than the next man, if possible, less, but—”  He had gotten very animated in his rant and suddenly stumbled, one hand going to his injured knee.  

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.”  He glared at me and I realized what he was doing.  

“...It’s Kai, isn’t it?”

He gave an exasperated sigh and paced some more, as much as the limited space inside my tent would allow.  “It’s more than him, it’s...everything.  We went into the Fade.  _Physically_ went in!  I saw something that might have been an Old God.  Twice.  You exiled the Grey Wardens when we know an Old God is practically exposed in an area swarming with enough darkspawn to overwhelm your _army_!  I thought we weren’t going to make it out of there _alive!_   I thought I’d lost you!  And Qy...”  He fell silent.  

“Dorian...”  I hugged him and we both broke down.  I don’t know how long we cried, but eventually we lay down and went to sleep.  

We left in the morning, filling up three carriages and piling inside while everyone was half dead from lack of sleep.  They gave me privacy in the form of a carriage to myself.  I guess they thought I needed it after everything or maybe they’d heard me crying last night.  The thought alone terrified me as much as the Nightmare demon itself.  I didn’t let anyone see that side of me normally, and now that I was leading an army it felt even more humiliating.  It felt like everything I did reflected on everyone involved in the Inquisition.  My normal insecurities took on a whole new gravity.  If I tripped while meeting a dignitary, if I got tongue-tied at an important dinner, if I loved a man...  I heard my father screaming at me whenever I thought of it, felt the slap of his scabbard across my back.  I couldn’t let anyone ever find out.  Some people knew already, but no one else.  I could love Dorian, but only so long as no one ever discovered that.  

The army was still asleep when we left and, predictably, thankfully, Dorian was the last to finish packing.  Only the footmen saw me pull him into my carriage with me.  My other companions would likely assume that he was just in the other of their two carriages.  Not my own.  I was alone for this journey, they had to think that, didn’t they?  

I hadn’t brought him to my carriage for sex.  I hadn’t thought that either of us wanted that with yesterday still so fresh in our minds, but somehow it happened anyway.  

The carriages had benches designed to open into a bed that filled the floorspace and we lay on that bed after the act, naked and exhausted, listening to the hoofbeats of the horses and the squeaking of the greased wheels.  

I had nearly fallen asleep when Dorian spoke.  

“Do you think he’ll come back again?”

“Qy?”

“Qy.”

I thought for so long that he looked up at me, probably thinking I must have fallen asleep.  

I shook my head.  “I...  Do you think he survived?”

He paused for almost as long as I had.  

Dorian sighed.  “Honestly?  No.  No, I think...I’m not sure anyone can cheat death that many times.”  

“Has he done this to you before?”

“You mean aside from making us think he was dead at the canyon, and in the Hinterlands, and just disappearing from time to time with no notice at all?”

I managed a wry smile.  “Yeah.  Aside from that.”

He paused.  “He told you that we knew each other before, then?”

I frowned.  If Kai had told me, I didn’t remember.  “No.  I just...you seem to have a history.  Seemed.”

He looked sad.  “We did, I suppose.  He...left abruptly.”

“You...were you lovers?”

He bobbled his head, a gesture he’d apparently picked up from Kai, even if he hadn’t noticed.  “We were close, and I suspect we slept together.”

I raised an eyebrow.  “You suspect?  That seems like something you’d be pretty certain about, especially knowing you and Kai.  You’re not exactly forgettable.”

“Did you expect any less from me?”  He grinned as he said that, but then he looked somber again.  “Thanks.  You’re not so forgettable yourself.”  It was a lie, even I could tell that, but at least he was grateful for a change.  He sighed.  “I was drunk.  Very drunk.  I think I must have said something that offended him and he ran off.  It might have had to do with his wings, I would guess, but I can’t be sure and he never told me.”  

I didn’t want to bring to mind the obvious, so I tried to find a happier topic, but he made note of it before I could stop him.  “I guess I’ll never know what I did that drove him off...”

He broke down again and I hugged him.  “I’m going to miss that horned bastard...”

*       *???*       *

The central circle of Val Royeaux bustled with life.  It was high noon, the perfect time for a duel, should one occur, but unfortunately that did not seem to be in the cards for today.  In the shade of the gallows, with no executions today either, I knew that I would remain unnoticed.  That was my intention, of course, as usual.  I was here to observe.  

A man waited beneath one of the arches, in a small alcove intended both for gossip and for clandestine affairs.  Just about everything in Orlais catered to one of the two, if not both.  A taller man approached him, not the one he’d been expecting.  Neither of the men he’d been expecting.  He watched the long, silky black hair, the hornless skull, the handsome face, making judgements.  He drew many more conclusions from the battered but newly repaired dragon-scale coat embroidered with gold thread and small diamonds.  The bulge at his back suggested a concealed weapon, but that notion was as much belied by the tightly buttoned sides as by the massive dragon-bone great-axe.  The axe, likewise, suggested a warrior, but the stranger’s fine silk robes — dyed blue and purple with silver fringes and diamond buttons— better suited a powerful and wealthy mage.  The wary merchant was left baffled, as he should be, for the stranger was never what his looks suggested.  

The masked man hesitated.  “...How may I help you, mister...?”

No name was given.  “You have something belonging to a friend of mine.  I would like it.  Now.”  

The threat did not go unnoticed.  I could smell the man’s fear even from here, see the sweat beading beneath his gold mask.  He was no fool, surprisingly enough.  He did not understand who or what this stranger was, but he recognized power when he saw it.  Maybe it was just the way the stranger carried himself, or the axe, or the fact that he wore a coat made of fresh dragon hide, but I like to think that the glow of his eyes in the gloom was the factor that truly convinced this shady merchant to fear the man before him.  

“Yes, sir.  Of course, sir.  Might I ask who this friend was and what item you seek?  I will have it for you as soon as possible, you understand of course...”

The stranger replied, his answer exactly as I had expected, though his reasons remained somewhat obscure.  I loved that mystery; I would find the answer soon enough.  

The merchant wavered.  “That...item is very valuable, and it was given quite willingly...”

He wouldn’t have held out for long, he didn’t dare.  He only hesitated at all out of habit, the hope that he might get some payment out of this.  He feared for his life, he would have given in at the force of a hard stare.  When the stranger reached into the neck of his robes, the merchant expected death.  He didn’t know if it would be a concealed dagger or a formal contract, but he did not dare hope to see what the stranger pulled out instead.  It was an amulet, one not so different from the one he sought to acquire except in age.  

The merchant marveled as the stranger spoke.  “You know what this is and you know its meaning.  If you do not do as I ask, I can make sure that, at the very least, you cannot deal with anyone of noble birth.  If that does not convince you, perhaps I should warn you that one of my closest friends commands the Antivan Crows?  I am not a man to be trifled with, nor do I desire to waste more time dealing with you.”  He paused and out of sheer fear the merchant took too long to answer.  The stranger gave him one last warning.  He held his amulet in one hand and let power course through it.  The white tinge of frost traced the pendant’s intricate design and bristled like hair along the stranger’s fingers and palm.  The merchant nearly wet himself.  

“I will get you the amulet!  Here!”  He’d kept it concealed in a hidden pocket of his vest and handed it over with great haste.  The merchant thanked the stranger for his life as the man, sated with the amulet, turned and left.  

I chuckled, pondering the possible consequences of this retrieval.  Interesting.


	22. I'm Not Dead Yet

*       *Bryce*       *

I had never cried or gotten laid so often in twelve days as during that extended carriage ride with Dorian.  We reached Skyhold in the evening, just after dinner had finished.  I gave the others ample time to disperse before I even considered leaving and in that time, Dorian lay sprawled half on top of me, one hand idly twiddling my hair.  

“Do you dye it?  How exactly do you manage to achieve this range of hues?”

“No idea,” I answered idly, content to stare into his soulful eyes.  Maker, the depth of emotion they could show...  “My mother’s hair was the same way, I’m told, just a bit more blonde.”

He frowned.  “You’re told?  You aren’t certain?”

I looked away and sighed.  I hadn’t wanted to talk about that.  After the number of times we’d talked about Kai, how often we’d cried until we’d finally accepted that he was really gone...  I guess we’d have some kind of a funeral when time allowed.  I didn’t even know if he had family to tell.  I didn’t want another sad conversation after all that, so I just answered simply.  “She was killed.”  No need to say how old I was, no need to mention that I’d witnessed the murder, no need to add that it was my father who had killed her.  

Dorian seemed to share my desire to avoid such depressing thoughts.  “Ah.  For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”  He fell silent for a while and then asked abruptly.  “What happens now?”  I got the sense that he’d mentioned my hair in his usual way of critiquing things when he had something on his mind.  

“Now?”

“With `us.’  Now that we’re back at Skyhold.”

I stayed silent for so long that he turned to stare at me.  “I don’t know.”

“People will talk.  People are probably talking already.”  The thought sickened me and it must have showed.  “Bryce, if this is...  If this is just fun, that’s all well and good, but if this is...  I mean, I know it’s foolish to hope for...more...”

I hesitated.  “We can...  We can go on like this, if you like.  But we have to keep it...  I’d prefer we kept this just between us.”

He seemed a bit annoyed, but said nothing.  “I can’t say I’m...fond of that idea, but...alright.”

We dared to emerge a few minutes after that and went our separate ways as quickly as possible.  I let the servants take my things to my quarters and went up to see Josephine and Leliana after grabbing some dinner from the kitchens.  I could hear some irate diplomat screaming at Josephine from the entry hall, so I wisely altered course to speak to Leliana first.  If the woman ever left the top of the library tower, it was only to interject into conversations other people were having.  The woman was worse than my step-mother when it came to showing up where she wasn’t wanted.  

She’d been waiting for me.  She stood when I walked in, approaching me like a striking eagle, “There you are!  The situation at Halimshiral is getting more urgent, we must see to that as soon as possible.  I recommend that you leave for the Winter Palace tomorrow at dawn.”  Tomorrow?  Maker, that was quick!  I hoped we’d be taking the carriages because I probably wouldn’t have time to sleep.  I’d expected Leliana to stop at that point, but she kept right on going, hitting me with the most shocking news I’d gotten in my entire life, at least up to that point.  “Also, you should read this,” she shoved a paper into my hands, “one of my agents discovered that Master Pavus is having some trouble with a merchant in Val Royeaux, something to do with an amulet, but more importantly, you must do something about the spirit, Qyvetiq.  I suspect he has been reading through reports from my agents and this must stop—”

I barely heard anything after his name.  “Wait.  Kaivetik?”

“Yes.  Your winged friend, except without horns, now—”

“Kai is here?”

She frowned.  “Of course.  He arrived a few days ago, we thought he told you.  Lady Vivienne wouldn’t stand for it when she found out.  She left for Val Royeaux and I say, good riddance.”

“Oh, thank the Maker!”  She started going on about something else and I didn’t bother to listen.  I turned on my heel and rushed down the stairs just short of a run.  

On the middle level, Dorian closed the book he was reading, using his thumb to hold the page and turning to look at me.  He started to say something and I cut him off.  “Dorian.”  I hooked an arm around his shoulders and marched him along with me.  

“You could at least bring me wine!”  He was more confused then annoyed, but he went along with me.  He didn’t even ask where we were going until we were out of the tower and when I remained silent he did as well.  The silence took on a new meaning once we were on the parapets.  He realized the answer to his question.  Now he was confused and sad.  

But not for long.  I slammed the door open, startling the owl roosting above the threshold, an indignant mass of dark grey above two startled white owlets.  Dorian’s eyes lit upon the sprawled body on a ledge above us, asleep on his bed of furs, one blueish-black wing dangling to the floor.  He was speechless.  I ignored the screeching of the owl as I stormed over to Kai and hauled him bodily off his ledge, flinging him to the floor.  As usual, he seemed dead, so I smacked him across the face.  “Kaivetik, wake the _hell_ up!”

He started to grimace and stretch as Dorian rushed over.  “You’re here?  You’re _alive?!_ ”

Qy groaned and started to sit up as I slapped him again.  

“Enough with the slapping,”  Dorian grabbed my wrist, “Qy, what _happened_?  How did you—?!  _We were worried sick!!_ ”  

“By the night, I was _sleeping_!”  He sat up, slowly realizing what was happening.  

Dorian tackled Kai in a hug.  “I thought I lost you!”  He was practically in tears.  I found myself torn between relief, joy, and rage.  After a few more moments of blank shock, rage won out.  

I punched Kai, narrowly missing Dorian.  “What were you thinking?  Why didn’t you tell us?!  _We thought you were dead!_ ”

Dorian let go of Kai, rounding on me, “ _Will you stop punching him!_ ”Kai stopped me as Dorian spoke, catching my wrists.  I’d seen the man almost knock a dragon off its feet and somehow it still surprised me to feel the unyielding strength of his arms.  Those intense purple eyes seemed to stare straight through me.  Kai’s thin lips curled into a knowing grin.  

“You two finally got together, didn’t you?”

My face went blank and Dorian, who had been about to berate me about hitting Kai, no doubt, paused and turned his fury on Kai.  “Is _that_ what this is about?  Did you seriously let us think you were dead so we would...?!”  

Kai let me go and raised his hands in surrender, though he was practically laughing.  “I didn’t plan for you to think I was dead, but as it happened...”  He shrugged and Dorian started his usual pacing.  

“Kai, I thought you were dead—!”

Crouched beside the winged man, I added, “We both did.”

“—what _happened_ to you?”  I felt a pang of searing envy when Kai got serious as soon as Dorian gave him that hurt look.  

Kai carefully stood, shaking the dust and dirt from his fragile wings and folding them behind his back.  He hesitated, starting to pace as well, though he had a slow stride in contrast to Dorian’s quick and agitated movements.  Dorian fluttered about like an angry peacock butKai moved like a predator, the soft padding of his bare feet on the cobblestones like that of a lion’s paws.  His pacing was confident and pensive, not an outburst of energy and emotion but a simple refusal to remain still.  “To tell the truth, I’m not really sure.”  

*       *Qyvetiq*       *

I remembered most of it.  I had felt myself change in the Fade.  For as long as I could remember, my spirit had moved my body as a puppet was moved by strings, but now those strings had been cut, my spirit forced into my body like a hand into a glove.  Except there were two hands.  I had always felt like once being.  I couldn’t remember my birth but since my childhood I had considered both halves of myself to be one in the same, despite the times when I felt his memories from before or from the times when my own youth had left me ignorant.  In a way, I was possessed.  He was not a demon, nor had it been an unwilling bond, but for all my life before Adamant, the circumstances of our union had left our control of my body more limited than it was now.  Now, not only did I begin to feel the crease where his mind flowed into my own, where our thoughts mixed until I could no longer tell the difference, but I felt his full power within me, or close to it.  He’d felt more distant before, as if part of him still dwelled in the Fade, and now, in some ways, we were more unified than ever before, but in others we had separated.  Both our spirits shared my body completely, but now, if I looked for it, I could see the places where his thoughts and ideals differed from my own.  It was hard.  I had thought we were the same person, but now it became clear how subtly different we were.  For the most part, it was only minor things, my fondness for dracolisks was his own, his fear of water was not mine; I quite liked the waves and swimming in them.  I didn’t eat carrots because he despised them, I had no dislike of such vegetables myself.  

It was strange.  For all my life, the person that I had believed myself to be, in some ways, was not me.  In some ways we were still, I suppose, the same person, but in others we weren’t and it disturbed me to realize that.  

I had discovered it in the Fade and panicked and his voice in my thoughts had silenced me, wrapped me in the love of someone who had known me since birth and locked me away until I could accept it without getting hysterical.  I didn’t remember anything after that until he had brought us from the Fade to the Frostbacks.  We waited in the falling snow, watching Skyhold in the distance for four days talking about what had happened.  Eventually we moved on.  We considered what our friends back at Adamant must think, we pondered what we would do when and if Corypheus was defeated, and we wondered what, if anything more, had been changed about us.  He hardly understood it better than I did, so at least we were equally confused.  

I did not share all of this with Bryce and Dorian.  I had made the mistake of being honest many times before and I would not do so again.  That was his thoughts, a painful truth he had learned through experience that I could not remember.  I wanted to be honest; the spirit who was a part of me told me not to.  

I told them that I remembered even less.  I described the death of Warden Clarell, the fall into the Fade and the intense pain I had felt while there, and then I told them that I came to while waking up airborne, flying over the Frostbacks near Skyhold.  

“You just mean that’s the last thing you remember, right?” Bryce queried, “You can’t have actually been sleeping while flying.”

I shook my head, disoriented by the way my hair slid into my face without horns to hold it back.  I brushed it behind my ear.  “I can lock my wings, glide indefinitely on the air currents at high altitudes.  I’m more lucky that I didn’t run into something; some of these mountains get that high.”

I scratched the place where my horns used to be with one un-gloved hand.  The lack of claws threw me off as well.  Dorian seemed to notice this.  

“What happened to your horns and such?”

That was something I was willing to be more honest about, although hopefully Bryce wouldn’t panic if he knew that much of the truth.  I was already pretty sure that he thought I was a demon, despite my assertions against that theory.  “I think that going into the Fade somehow made the spirit inside me more powerful.  My more monstrous features seemed to be due to its inability to properly inhabit my body.  Somehow that was remedied by going through the rift and now it-I have full control of my body to the point of being able to shape-shift, to some degree.  I chose to look mostly human, but I am rather fond of my wings.”

Both of them stared at me.  I think Bryce was frightened and Dorian wasn’t completely comfortable with that explanation either.  He frowned.  “So, what are you saying?  That you’re _possessed_?”

I shrugged and then sighed.  “Truthfully?  Yes.  But the spirit is no demon and I’m not sure he ever intended to possess me.  We share control of my body.  Until Adamant, I couldn’t actually separate our thoughts at all.”  He looked both fascinated and confused, so I continued, “I don’t remember how he came to be a part of me exactly, but I have a vague sense from him that I would have died if he had not...bonded with me.  Again, I’m not sure if this is possession per-say, and I am in control of my own actions.  I knew a woman once who had become a vessel of a spirit of faith, but that’s the closest comparison I know of to what I am.”

Dorian started to ask something more but Bryce, failing to notice, spoke first.  

“You aren’t going to...to go all demon or anything, right?”

I blinked slowly.  “Bryce, if anything I have _more_ control now than before.”

He nodded slowly and yawned.  “Right.  Kai, according to Leliana, we’re all heading to Halimshiral first thing in the morning, would you be feeling up to that?”

“I’m perfectly fine, I’d be happy to join you.”

He sighed.  “Right.  Good.  Well, I’d best get some rest, see you then.”

He turned and left.  I got the distinct impression that he was a lot more disturbed by what I’d told him than he let on.  Dorian looked at me after he was gone.  

“I suppose I have to go calm him down now...  You _are_ alright, aren’t you?  You weren’t just saying that to keep him calm?”

I nodded.  “I’m fine.”  Some of the pelts that formed my bed had fallen to the floor and I set about putting them back in place.  “Are you alright?”

“Well, now that I know you’re _alive_...”  He grinned, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.  “Next time you want me to sleep with someone, can you find a less traumatic method?  Preferably one in which I don’t have to think that I lost you?”

I smiled at him.  “I’ll do my best.”  I’m not sure he believed me.  

Dorian hesitated in the doorway, beneath the very indignant owls.  “I _would_ like to talk to you about what you are, sometime.  It sounds quite interesting.  Maybe the two of us together might be able to sort out exactly what your father did.”

I nodded.  “Any time.”

He left me alone.  After that, I knew I wouldn’t get back to sleep.  I felt restless, felt like there was something incredibly important that I had to do, but I couldn’t remember.  The spirit inside me was being unhelpful, for once.  Before Adamant, I had felt his plans and desires as my own, now they were separate and I only knew them if he chose to show me.  My tension could be due to some urgent need he had but refused to share, though I couldn’t begin to guess what that might have been at the time.  He stayed silent, frustratingly enough, a dark mass at the back of my mind, refusing to respond to my prodding questions.  

I eventually gave up.  

Fine, if he wasn’t going to let me help, I needed a diversion.  I couldn’t be dealing with obstinate men inside my own mind.  I went to the tavern, hoping to meet Bull for one of our usual sessions.  I hid my wings before I headed down, preferring to go unnoticed.  I didn’t want conversation right now, not while I was still struggling to adjust to all the changes I was still discovering since I’d passed through the Fade.  I wanted something simple.  I wanted someone I could just be with and relax until the thoughts and worries stopped buzzing in my mind.  I wanted Dorian.  

I’d realized that now.  With my mind separated from the spirits I had figured it out, my feelings for Bryce were his, and they were less romantic, more... friendly, I guess.  Well, not friendly, per say.  The spirit cared for Bryce because Bryce reminded him of me.  He knew the ways we were different and he saw them in Bryce, I suppose, there was no lust, but the spirit cared for him very deeply in its way.  I cared for him as well, but not like that.  I guess I saw how alike we were as well.  There was lust there, and I did care for him, but it wasn’t romantic, at least not anymore.  Now he was a friend.  A close friend, I suppose, and I would always appreciate the fact that my attraction to him had brought me back to Dorian.  

I wanted Dorian now, not for anything primal, just...to be with him.  I suppose this must be why, however much I tried to avoid civilization, however much I kept to myself, however much I vowed that I wouldn’t become involved with another man, it always happened.  I guess I inevitably got lonely and found that I needed someone; I just couldn’t resist.  I still couldn’t be with him, I wouldn’t make him suffer like that as much as I wanted to be with him for my own selfish reasons, and now he was with Bryce, so the point was moot.  At the very least, I wished I could go spend time with him now just to take my mind off everything, but that hardly seemed appropriate.  So I’d settle for someone to just fuck me until we both passed out.  

In the tavern, I saw Bull deeply involved in a game of Wicked Grace with Varric.  All the chargers and half the bar had joined in, taking up most of the tavern in a mix of drinking, gambling, and boisterous guffaws.  He wouldn’t be out of there for hours.  In all the activity, only the bartender noticed me at all and if he recognized me, he made no comment.  With nothing better to do than wait, I sat at the bar and drank.  

Over the past few days, I’d realized that the increased power of the spirit inhabiting me left me almost completely sustained by the magical energy I could draw from the Fade.  I got thirsty when my throat dried out, but I didn’t need to eat, or drink, or even really to sleep as far as I could tell.  I hadn’t felt like hunting since I’d gotten back, and I didn’t eat at the tavern, but my throat was dry.  For the first time, I could taste the horrible earthiness of the greasy ale.  The stuff was truly atrocious, but at least it was wet.  I downed twelve flagons before I realized that it was actually effecting me.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm hoping to finish this story before I go back to Some Other World, just to let anyone know if you're waiting on an update in that.


	23. One Hell of a Night

*       *Bryce*       *

I needed a drink after dealing with Kai.  But I started towards my quarters before I realized that, so I had to take a very indirect route to get to the tavern.  The bartender had just gotten a nice whiskey in and I was halfway through my second shot of that when I noticed that the man sitting alone at the other end of the bar was Kai and also that he had apparently gotten so drunk already that he hadn’t seen me.  Good.  I didn’t need to get dragged into an awkward conversation, punch him, or sleep with him.  By the time I had a third shot, any of those seemed likely if I stayed, so I got one last shot and fled the tavern, hoping to escape Kai’s notice and I succeeded.  I made it outside before the heavy dose of booze made me do something I’d regret.  

The night was cold; winter had been on its way for a while and I guess now it was finally here.   The grey clouds yielded a wet and heavy snowfall.  Now I really hoped that we’d be riding in carriages tomorrow.  I couldn’t go back to the tavern with Kai there and I’d been lucky that the crowd seemed too focused on singing and gambling to notice me while I’d been there.  I suppose I could have tried to go to bed, but the idea didn’t entice me.  I was in a bad mood.  Yes, Kai was alive, but he’d been possessed all along, apparently.  Was the Kai I knew really him or was it whatever was inside of him, some kind of demon or spirit or something?  I didn’t really understand and to tell the truth, I didn’t want to.  It was just too bizarre; I couldn’t have a relationship with something like that, I wasn’t even sure we could still be friends.  It was too...disturbing.  

And then on top of that, the fate of the Inquisition as well as the fate of all of Thedas still rested on my shoulders.  I had no idea what I was doing with any of this, I was flying by the seat of my pants, why the hell had anyone ever trusted this to me?  It was so frustrating.  All of it just made me angry and depressed.  I felt like I had no one to turn to and everyone either hated me or depended on me, and I was just going to let them down.  I wandered, heading up to a part of the keep that I had never really explored before as I let my legs carry me where they chose.  

I ended up above the gardens.  It was late, with most of the castle asleep, everything but the tavern was quiet and so voices carried far.  I heard them talking as I started down the stairs.  They were Orlesian, probably some of the obnoxious nobles that always seemed to congregate in the main hall.  

“No.  From what I hear, he’s with the mage now, the Tevinter.”

A woman’s voice gasped.  “First a demon, and now...?”

“Yes!”  The man paused and added in a horribly shocked tone, “And now there’s some young woman in the Marches who claims he was leading her on!  The poor girl’s simply heartbroken.”

Susan.  Yes, she would be upset.  I’d been courting her before all of this.  She probably thought it was more serious than it had really been, she tended to do that, but I hadn’t meant to hurt her.  It wasn’t like we’d been engaged or even done more than flirt and spend time together, but I liked her.  I still did.  I might have married her if things had gone differently, she was nice and her looks were top shelf.  She just wasn’t here.  Since the Conclave, I’d been facing death on a daily basis and I guess long-distance relationships just stopped seeming feasible.  If I might die at any moment, my lover had better be there for me at the end of the day, not five or six or ten weeks away waiting for me to come back.  I probably would never make it back anyway.  I still felt bad, and then I felt worse as they kept talking.  

“He was just in denial, then.  Poor girl never realized.  It’s simply horrendous to think that he’d lead her on like that when he’s only interested in men.”

“Oh, _my_ theory is he’s just greedy.  He wants _everyone_ , it’s the only reason not to pick one side or the other.”

“The scoundrel!”

I heard them turn and leave but hardly noticed.  I don’t know how long I waited on the stairs, leaning against the wall and staring at the snow settling over the stones around me.  Eventually, I headed up to my quarters.  I don’t know if it was the view, the cool air, or the height, but I’d found myself drawn to my balcony when my thoughts got particularly dark.  

*       *Dorian*       *

Bryce seemed to have simply vanished after he’d left Qy’s tower.  I’d wandered Skyhold for over an hour, checking all his usual haunts before going up to his quarters, which I found deserted.  Where else did the Inquisitor even go?  It unsettled me a little to recognize that I was attracted to him, and attached to him, and yet I didn’t even know that much about the man.  I thought at the time that we might be good for each other as long as we could manage not to fight.  I’d been with many men, but never really had a _romantic_ relationship before, Qy was the closest I’d gotten to that.  I felt like what Bryce and I had had become something like that now, surprisingly.  It had taken Qy’s apparent death to bring us together.  Now that he was back, that might change.  I don’t know if it would have lasted if Qy truly had died, but I was glad that I wouldn’t have to find out.  

That bothered me a little as well.  I preferred that Qy lived and I could still see him over the possibility that Bryce and I might have developed a more permanent relationship.  Things were alright as they were, I supposed, but I would have liked Bryce to at least treat our relationship with a bit less...shame.  I understood that it was difficult, believe me, I knew that, but he was really acting like a selfish child about this.  Even keeping it secret, I understood, after all, everyone already seemed to think that I was the Tevinter manipulating the Inquisitor, they’d thought I was trying to even when Bryce and I had hated each other.  But Bryce was outright _ashamed_.  It was like, when he looked at me, he still loathed me sometimes, or at least loathed the fact that he was attracted to me as a man.  

After at least an hour of waiting in Bryce’s quarters, I’d ended up on the balcony, so I barely heard when Bryce came in and walked up the steps.  He noticed me first.  

“Dorian?  What are you doing here?”

He startled me.  I turned to look at him.  The man was visibly upset, and he seemed a little tipsy.  “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.”  His tone was dismissive and he was definitely not fine.  “Why are you here?”

Bryce was practically confrontational about this, though I guess I should expect that from him.  “I came here to make sure you were okay.  That was a lot to find out all at once, and then you vanished right afterwards?  Where did you go?”

“It doesn’t matter.”  He stormed over to the railing and leaned on it broodingly.  

I sighed.  “It’s not like he’s possessed by a demon, you know.”

“Does that even matter?  How do you know, anyway?  He’s been possessed since we met, by the sound of things, and he never even thought to mention this?”

“Would you have reacted any better if he had told you straight off?  You would have had him killed.  You nearly had me killed just for being a Tevinter mage, if Cole hadn’t saved your life, you would have killed him too.  Qy is on our side, no demon would have helped us without getting something in return.”

“Then why didn’t he tell us sooner?  I know I would probably have killed him if I’d known straight off the bat, but he could have told me afterwards.  He...  I thought he was a demon at first, but I was almost alright with that probably because I didn’t really believe it.  I thought he was just some kind of mutant qunari or something, but this?  Dorian, he’s possessed, really possessed, and he’s a mage—”

“So that’s what it all comes down to, then?  He’s a mage, you can’t trust him, he has to be evil, right?”

“Dorian, I didn’t mean...  Don’t make this about you, it’s just that I don’t know if I can still be friends with Kai after finding out—”

“Finding out what he is?  He’s possessed by a spirit, not a demon.  And he’s a mage.  Do you even trust mages?  What do you think of us?  What do you think of me, Bryce?”

“Dorian...”

“What is this exactly?  Did you just start this because you were upset when we thought Kai had died?  Or under too much stress?  Are you just using me for sex?”

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

I gave an exasperated sigh, “It hasn’t really been that long since you hated me, or at least you surely _seemed_ to hate me, you still seem to hate me sometimes!  Exactly how do you really feel about me, Bryce?  And don’t just avoid the question, answer me!”

*       *Bryce*       *

I felt all the frustration, all the hate starting to focus.  Who was he to talk to me like that?  It was a good thing that I wasn’t more drunk.  I felt my hands balling into fists and knew that I was going to punch him.  I fought it, shaking my head.  “I...I can’t deal with you when you’re like this.”  He started to protest and I ignored him, rushing down the stairs before he could stop me, before I hurt him or said something I really regretted.  

I didn’t know where else to go.  I thought of heading out, wandering the Frostbacks, just walking away, or at least just walking.  I might have, but I was hungry, so I went to the kitchens first.  I grabbed a few small apple pies and nearly collided with the blonde serving girl on my way out.  She was massively pregnant now and I’d apparently startled her.  I set down the pies as fast as I could, afraid she was going to faint or something from how shocked she looked.  

“Inquisitor!  I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s fine, I didn’t see you there, it was my fault.”  There was basically no one here and the door of the cupboard where I’d gotten the pies must have hidden me from her view until I stepped back.  I’d been too distracted to notice her.  

“N-no, sir, I-I shouldn’t have been walking so quickly, I just didn’t expect—”

She didn’t calm down.  She kept shaking her hands uncontrollably as if she was fanning herself.  She looked like she was about to collapse, so I tried to guide her to a chair.  “Are you alright?”

She sat awkwardly, leaning back around her huge belly and catching her breath.  She cried out suddenly.  I had no clue what was happening, so I glanced around stupidly.  “What?  What’s wrong?”

“The baby’s coming!”  My jaw dropped.  Sweet Maker, what the hell was I supposed to do?!  I had no experience with this at all.  Who did I get?  What did I get?  Where were the healers?  Why the hell was this suddenly my responsibility?  

“W-What do I do?”

She yelped incoherently, in agony, and I just stood there.  What the hell was I supposed to do?  What did people do in this situation?  Why the hell was this happening to me, now?  Why tonight?!  Really, fate, you had to throw every awful situation at me at once?  

A woman, one of Leliana’s people, shoved me aside, rushing in out of nowhere.  “Oh, let me!  Men don’t understand this anyway...”  She dropped to her knees in front of the serving woman and propped the woman’s heels up on a pair of chairs.  The kneeling woman glanced up at me, her silvery hair cascading down her chest as it fell free of her hood, her eyes flashing crimson.  “Get water and towels!”

When I remained frozen for the barest fraction of a second, she snapped her hand up and curled her fingers in my direction.  I felt something come over me, a force that stole my mind’s control of my body.  I felt myself turn and do as she ordered, bringing the items to her as if in a dream.  

“Leave.”

I was outside before I felt the cold breeze and the snow beneath my boots.  What had just happened?  Who was that woman?  Behind me, the kitchen door would not open and when I tried the handle, I felt that it didn’t matter any more.  The serving girl would be safe, as would her child.  I should go.  I should find something else to do.  I should get a drink.  I went to the tavern.  

Bull was there when I sat at the bar.  Varric must have gone to sleep and everyone but the bartender and the massive qunari had left.  When I asked the bartender for whatever he had that was strong, Bull looked at me.  

“Rough night, boss?”

“You don’t know the half of it.”

“I might have some idea.  I heard Qyvetiq survived.  Somehow he was here for most of the ride back.”

“Yeah.”

“Shitty thing to do, not tell anyone he was alive.”

“Yeah.”

*       *Qyvetiq*       *

I was never drinking again.  I’d had fifteen tankards, half my usual, and I’d barely felt worse in the Fade.  My head was pounding, my stomach sloshed nauseatingly whenever I moved and the ground seemed to be practicing acrobatics.  I would have grown my wings again if I hadn’t been afraid that I’d break them.  Was this how Dorian felt most of the time?  How did he stand it?!  Mostly, I wanted to sleep, but I was afraid I’d miss the loading of the carriages for the Winter Palace.  I’d heard that eating sometimes helped, but doubted I’d be able to keep anything down.  I was struggling not to vomit with just the booze, but I had a feeling that if that happened, not only would I heave until there was nothing left, but I was pretty sure my innate magic would make it all ignite.  Damn, sometimes my body really became a siege weapon, and this wasn’t even a good time for that.  

The spirit in my head, completely sober, and maybe even amused by the unexpected sensations I was feeling, eventually pointed out that I might ask for help, now that I could, apparently, get myself drunk.  Help was a good idea.  I needed help right now.  I went to find Dorian.  

I think I accidentally walked in on Cassandra and then maybe Cullen a few doors after that, but eventually I found Dorian’s quarters.  Or at least I was pretty sure they were Dorian’s quarters, he was inside them at any rate.  

*       *Dorian*       *

I guess I wasn’t going to sleep tonight.  After Bryce stormed out on me, I’d given him a few minutes and gone to my own quarters.  The man was so infuriating sometimes, just what was his problem?  Why couldn’t he just talk to me openly?  Everything was always a fight with him.  What had I gotten myself into?  

I lay on my bed for a while, just thinking about it all, and at some point, I guess I fell asleep.  

I must have forgotten to lock my door, even though I was sober tonight, because at some point I was awakened by Qy, stumbling inside and leaning on the doorframe.  “Dorian?”  He was drunk, massively, impressively drunk.  He also sounded worried enough that I scrambled out of bed and walked over to him.  

“Vashante kaffas, exactly how many did you have?”

“Fifteen.”  Well, I guess that explained it.  “Dorian, how the hell do you deal with this?”

He could barely stand, so I helped him to sit down on the edge of the bed and he promptly sprawled across it, eyes closed.  I thought he’d passed out until he remarked.  “I’ve only felt worse in the Fade itself.  Why do you ever drink that swill?  It tastes like raw suet and it does _this_ , why does it even exist?”

I marveled at him, actually laughing aloud.  Amazing that Qy could do that to me after the night I’d just had.  “Have you seriously never been drunk before?”

He started to shake his head and then groaned, rubbing his temples.  “No.  How do you deal with this?  There’s got to be something that helps...”

“Personally?  More ale.  Or wine, or really any kind of alcohol.”

“I hardly think that’s the best solution.”

“It works.”

He opened his eyes again and looked at me as I stretched out beside him.  I was tired and today had just been emotionally draining.  I guess he picked up on that.  

“Are you alright?”

I sighed.  “Not really.”

“What happened?”

“...Bryce and I had a fight.”

I looked back at him in time to catch his eyes scanning my body for cuts or bruises and I glared at him.  “He didn’t _hit_ me, Qy!”

He met my gaze very openly, “Sorry, just...checking.”

We fell silent for a moment and I had to ask the question that had been nagging at my mind.  “Do you think that he would?  Even now?  You know him better than I do.”

He couldn’t answer right away.  Finally he nodded.  “Yes.  I hope he never does, but...I can’t put it past him.”

That scared me a little.  

I changed the subject.  “Qy...exactly what is the nature of the spirit possessing you?”

I’d taken a while to answer and I guess he’d almost fallen asleep.  “Hmm?”

“The spirit possessing you.  Is it a spirit of...compassion?  Wisdom?  Bravery?”

“I’m not sure he’s really like that.”  He didn’t open his eyes and he rolled over, flopping onto his stomach with his bare feet hanging off the bed and one arm draped across my chest.  He rested his cheek against my collarbone.  Yes, Qy was definitely falling asleep.  “He’s more...he’s more like his own type of spirit.”

“What do you mean?”  I didn’t really mind having him like that, although it seemed a little awkward to let him sleep here, half on top of me while I had whatever I had with Bryce, but the frustrating man still refused to clarify anything about our relationship.  It wasn’t as if I was sleeping with Qy, at any rate.  I was also curious to know what exactly he was, beyond just being possessed.  Shape-changing seemed to be a bit beyond normal possession, although I had to admit that I was no expert.  Maybe I would have to ask Solas or Cole on the way to the Winter Palace tomorrow.  

He mumbled something, yawned, and clarified, “I am not defined by a single, simple concept.”  The voice fell silent as I realized that this had to be the spirit communicating to me directly.  Qy seemed to have passed out.  “You know what I am.”  I heard the faintest ghost of a laugh in its tone as it fell silent and left the tall, currently human-looking man unconscious on top of me.  

That was disconcerting.  I couldn’t be sure what it meant by that last remark, but my thoughts went back to the spirit that had saved us in the Fade, the one the Nightmare had addressed as Lusacan.  It _was_ possible that the spirit of the Old God could be wandering the Fade while his body slept, but if that was the case, how had he spoken to me before then?  Maybe I had just been hallucinating in the pit, but some kind of spirit really had rescued us from the Nightmare, and if such a powerful demon feared it, it might well be Lusacan.  The idea that I’d ever interacted with an Old God unnerved me, but now...  

Why had Lusacan taken the form of Qy in the Fade?  Where had Qy actually gone when we fell through?  I believed that he was possessed, it made sense with everything I had seen him do, though it must be a spirit and not a demon for him to have helped us so willingly and to have control over his body.  Because Lusacan had appeared as Qy, it did occur to me that he might somehow be the spirit possessing my dear friend, but that was impossible, wasn’t it?  Even if his spirit wandered the Fade while his body slept, even if an Old God could really possess a mage...the spirit of a dreaming person could never possess a body even if the dreamer was an Old God, right?  

I looked at Qy, studying the peaceful look on his face.  He really did seem dead.  He wasn’t breathing or moving at all, and he didn’t stir when I tried to sit up.  Tried being the operative word; he was too heavy for me to move from this angle.  Unnaturally heavy, it seemed, like his body was made of something much more solid than flesh and bone, like steel or dragon scale.  I gave up and lay back down.  Maybe...somehow...  Perhaps Qy really was possessed by the Old God, Lusacan?  

I didn’t want to believe it.  I tried looking at things from a different perspective.  Some other spirit was in Qy, a spirit of youth or something equally likely to make him so frustratingly unclear about what he really was.  Then, if the spirit that had faced the Nightmare really was Lusacan, why had he appeared to me as Qyvetiq?  Was he trying to manipulate me somehow?  Bryce had told me in the carriage ride back that he had seen a great dragon, another reason that the spirit genuinely seemed to be Lusacan, the Old God himself.  If I had seen Qyvetiq, either the Dragon of the Night identified so strongly with Qy as to mimic his appearance or, more likely because Bryce had seen something very different, he sought to manipulate me.  But why had he chosen Qyvetiq and not Bryce?  My feelings for them were the same, weren’t they?  I wanted to believe that I cared more deeply for Bryce, despite how infuriating he could be, but now I started to wonder...  

I watched Qy for a while, half afraid that he might really be dead, but mostly debating exactly how I felt about him.  


	24. Inevitable

*       *Qyvetiq*       *

We set out for the Winter Palace at dawn.  The spirit possessing me told me that he’d taken control of my body to get me onto the carriage and take care of me while I was still too hung-over and exhausted to be coherent.  I was never drinking again.  The horses carried us on through the first day and into the second before we stopped to trade them out for a fresh set of teams at an Inquisition camp near the Emprise du Lion.  With three carriages, the spirit had left my normally unresponsive body in the last one, which ended up being shared by Dorian and Bryce.  Vivvienne, Cassandra, Sera, Leliana, and Josephine all shared the first and largest carriage with greatly varied reactions.  Varric, Iron Bull, Blackwall, Solas, Cole, and Cullen shared the second, crammed in and less than comfortable.  Cole and Solas soon took turns riding with the driver.  Cullen would probably have done the same, partly to avoid losing all his gold to Varric’s games of Wicked Grace, if it weren’t for his usual insistence on hiding his suffering.  

I only really woke up when we stopped and I let the spirit fill me in on what had happened before I opened my eyes.  When I did, I found that Dorian was the only one in the carriage with me.  It was mid-afternoon and I could smell enough of the snow, dragons, and red lyrium to recognize the Emprise du Lion.  

The mage looked over at me when I straightened up in the seat.  

“Are you...feeling alright?”  I could tell he seemed disturbed and that surprised me.  

“I’m fine.  Why?”

“Do you remember anything since you got drunk?”

I snorted in mild amusement, glancing at my clothing.  The spirit had dressed me in solid black from head to toe.  I guess my fashion sense was really mine and not his.  “The spirit told me what happened.  He controlled my body enough to make sure that I joined you all on this trip.”

“Ah.”  He stretched and stood.  “Well, that explains it, I suppose.  You hardly woke up since then, and when you did you were completely silent.  You had this blank stare like a walking corpse, rather unsettling really.”

I laughed.  “I think he’s as disoriented by our recent separation as I am.  It’s strange, like half of my self is suddenly a different person inside my own mind.”

Dorian seemed surprised by that description.  “Really?  You were truly so completely combined that you couldn’t tell what wasn’t your own mind?”

I frowned at him, deciding to grow my wings now that I wasn’t so likely to break them by accident.  He watched in open fascination as they pushed out from my back, finding their way through the slits hidden in the back of my ebony tunic.  “I can’t remember ever being apart from him.  I actually suspect that I may have somehow become possessed before my birth, it would explain why my father sired both me and my sister rather than use slaves or orphans for his experiments.”

He tore his eyes from my wings to meet my gaze in surprise.  “I didn’t know you had a sister.  Is she...?”

“Possessed?  Yes.  She is not pleasant.  I lost touch with her quite a while ago, but I’m sure she is still the same scheming cliche everyone expects us to be.  She is much better at hiding her abnormalities than I am; I am glad she is not here.  Hopefully you never have the misfortune to meet her.”

“That bad, huh?”  Bryce had appeared in the open door of the carriage.  Apparently he’d overheard some of what I’d said.  My eyes narrowed slightly and shifted subtly towards mauve.  I had something I wanted to discuss with Bryce.  

“The woman is a nightmare.”  I meant it metaphorically, but the two of them exchanged a glance suggesting they took it literally.  I didn’t tell them otherwise; my sister was much worse and more powerful than a Nightmare demon.  I stepped out of the carriage, eyeing Bryce.  “I would like to speak to you.”

Dorian, guessing what I was on about, shot me a warning look.  “Qy...”

I stared back at him.  I knew he wouldn’t want me getting involved, but I wasn’t about to let this go.  I feigned ignorance in a way that conveyed the fact that his dissapproval would not sway my decision on this matter.  “Dorian?”

Bryce seemed almost suspicious.  He glanced between the two of us.  I looked back at him and gestured in invitation to speak with him privately.  “Bryce?”

Sera had stopped some distance off, outside the carriage she was traveling in.  I hadn’t noticed her, but now she walked a bit closer.  “Something going on between you three, yeah?”

Bryce blushed immediately and glared at her.  “None of your business.”

Sera laughed.  “It’s great, though.  Like one of those books Varric writes.  Someone always getting into someone’s knickers.  The wrong knickers too, half the time, yeah?  Great fun to watch.  It’ll shock the balls off those snooty nobles at this party we’re going to.”  

Bryce started to tense up, no doubt planning to punch her, and I grabbed his shoulders, turning him around and marching him out of earshot of the others.  Behind us, I heard Dorian sigh.  The spirit inside me told me that Dorian pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration and left the carriage to go find some booze, hopefully wine.  

I was too focused on Bryce at that point to answer the spirit.  

Once we were out of earshot, Bryce stopped and looked apologetic.  “Look, I know you care about him and...I’m sorry.  It won’t happen again.”

I’d been about to go easy on him before that second sentence.  I was pretty sure that Bryce knew full well that there would be other arguments, it was inevitable with the two of them being the way they were.  “Don’t apologize to me, be open with _him_.”

“You think I should tell him?  That?  It was one mistake, Kai, I don’t even know how you knew!  Sometimes, I swear you can read minds...”

I tilted my head, confused and suspicious, but he apparently saw only the latter emotion.  “`One mistake?’”

“I don’t want to _be_ with Bull, you know that, right?  It was just...  I was drunk, Kai, and it had been a hell of a day, I just needed... _something_.”

I hadn’t expected that.  “You slept with the Iron Bull?!”  

My surprise must have mimicked outrage, because he quailed, “Kai, I know you two sort of have a thing going, I’m sorry, it wasn’t like that, I was just—”  

Now I was angry.  I tossed my head despite my lack of horns and my eyes turned almost magenta.  “There is nothing of the sort between me and Bull, only sex.  You, on the other hand, _are with Dorian_!  Doesn’t that matter to you?”

He was scared of me and as much as I didn’t mean to use that against him, it served its purpose.  Bryce was too afraid to escalate to violence, so he answered.  “Kai, I...I really like Dorian.  Give me a chance.”

“Bryce, I’ve given you a chance, he’s given you many, perhaps more than you deserve.  You’re both adults, don’t prove it to me, prove it to him.  I wanted to talk to you because you had a fight, I knew nothing beyond that.”  He started to protest and I clarified, “I know you didn’t hit him and I’m glad of that.  I know you, Bryce, and I know you would have already punched me if you weren’t afraid of what I am.  Don’t make me regret my choice to help you become involved with him, if you hurt him, you will regret it, whether by your doing or by mine.”

*       *Dorian*       *

There was a merchant at the camp, which was really more of a captured fort and the man, thank the Maker, had decent wine in stock.  I bought him out.  Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who’d had that kind of idea.  

The Iron Bull stood near the stand, arms loaded with five casks of ale, three bottles of brandy, and a jug of something I guessed to be more alcohol.  “Good thinking.”  He toasted with a bottle of brandy and downed it in one long gulp.  

“Good thinking buying out all the wine?”  I wasn’t in the best mood.  I wasn’t sure if I wished I’d gotten here earlier to have a chance at buying some of the brandy and ale myself or if I just wasn’t in the mood to talk.  

“Yeah.”  Bull opened another bottle and added, “Best way to get over a breakup.”

I stared in utter confusion and he frowned.  

“You and Bryce broke up, right?”

“It’s common knowledge that we’re `together’, then, is it?  And no.”  I’d been about to ask why when his face fell a little.  

“Oh.”  He had the look of someone suddenly caught in the middle of a fight.  I’d worn the same look myself on the many occasions when something I said or did had started my parents into another of their frequent arguments.  Needless to say, I recognized it effortlessly.  

“Why, exactly, did you think that we had broken up?”

He stepped back slightly.  “Whoa.  You should really talk to Bryce.  I’m sorry, I misunderstood.”

What the hell was Bryce telling people?  

I stowed the wine back in the carriage and stormed off to find him.  I found him off by himself, standing at the edge of a frozen lake, prodding at the ice experimentally with the toe of his boot.  “Bryce!”

He looked up.  “Dorian?”

He sounded almost concerned until I got close enough that he could see how angry I was.  “Iron Bull seems to be under the impression that not only were we together, but that we broke up?  What exactly gave him that idea?”

*       *Bryce*       *

I raised my hands defensively.  “I can explain.  I was drunk.”

“That’s no excuse!  Just tell me what _happened_.”

“It’s excuse enough for you—”

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean—?!”

“It was the night that we fought, and now we’re fucking fighting again—”

“We fight all the time, Bryce, I was just hoping that would change.”

I bit my lip for a second.  Damn him for pointing that out, I’d been hoping the same thing.  “I didn’t mean to start that either, I’ve just had a lot to deal with lately—”

“And I haven’t?  We’ve both nearly died more times than I can count since all this started—”

“I didn’t mean to sleep with Bull, Dorian.”

He froze.  After a second, he seemed to accept it and scowled.  “I thought that’s what was going on here.”  He looked away for a moment and pulled his robes a little more tightly around him, muttering in annoyance about the cold.  It _was_ freezing out here.  

He looked at me sadly.  “I thought this might be...important to you, Bryce.  I didn’t imagine that it would really be...love, but I at least hoped that you weren’t just sleeping with _everyone_.  And he was so open about it.  Am I the only one you’re embarrassed to sleep with?”  

“It’s not like that.”  To tell the truth, I wasn’t particularly pleased to hear that Bull had just openly told people.  “It’s just that...well, you’re Tevinter—”

“Really?”  He rounded on me.  “ _That_ ’s what it’s all about then?  The mighty Inquisitor can openly love a man, just as long as it’s not a `Vint.’”

“I’m not fond of that either!”  I meant openly loving a man.  He misunderstood.  

“So it’s because I’m a mage?  Is that it?”

“No.”  I paced a little, still decently calm.  I wasn’t more than annoyed and mostly, I just felt guilty and a bit sickened by how much I cared what people thought of me.  “Dorian, that’s not what I meant—”

“Bryce, I get that it takes courage to be...open, about this, I even understand that you being...with me, might not be the best thing for the Inquisition’s image, but at least be honest with me.  What exactly is there between us?  Even if it won’t work, even if we’ll have to wait until all this is over, if we survive...”

I hesitated.  “Dorian...”  I couldn’t find the right words.  

He sighed in exasperation.  “Why can’t you just tell me?  Me?  Not anyone else, vashante kaffas, we’re not taking _vows_ or anything, just _tell me_!”  He gave me another moment during which I still couldn’t think of anything to say.  “What the hell is your problem?  Can you just stop being such a fucking coward about this?!”

That word had always managed to set me off.  Coward.  The hate flared inside me before I could stop it and I flew at him.  I punched him, knocked him down, left his nose bleeding and then something was on me.  A force like a charging druffalo slammed my chest and lifted me to my feet, something cold and slick locking onto my wrist and holding me.  

Dorian was completely obscured from my vision, first by a small hurricane of snow and then by a curtain of iridescent black.  Kai stood between us, shoving me away, wings spread like a shield wall behind him.  He had his horns again, longer than I’d ever seen them and added to with a smaller set just below his slightly pointed ears.  His hands had grown claws as well as a set of fine and thick scales like shimmering black chainmail.  He had his face set in a glare that seemed colder than the alpine winter around us.  His eyes glowed a piercing shade of scarlet and his pupils had narrowed to reptilian slits.  Even clean, even had he been human, that glare would have frozen me in place, but it became much more threatening because he dripped with blood.  It soaked his hands and forearms and streaked the lower portion of his face.  Even his wings showed crimson speckles on the lighter parts.  

*       *Qyvetiq*       *

I was furious.  I think, had this happened before Adamant, I would have whited out, maybe even killed him.  As it was, the spirit inside me took over my body and I watched, torn between half a dozen strong emotions.  I desperately wanted to help Dorian.  I felt betrayed, I had trusted that they would be good together, I had so believed that Bryce would never hurt Dorian and this had shattered that faith.  I almost managed to hate Bryce for that, but I understood him too well, cared too deeply for him to let that happen.  I was worried for him as well, for what he would do to himself because of this.  He was not his father, he could still change and become something other than the monster controlled by his own temper.  I wanted to help both of them.  

The spirit felt much the same.  I could feel his outrage almost as strongly as the pain he felt because of how much he had wished for them to be happy together.  For a long moment, he couldn’t think clearly enough to find the right words in a language they would both understand.  

“Bryce.  Go to the carriages.”  

He nodded shakily.  He seemed as terrified by his actions as I was, as the spirit could feel that Dorian was.  I was glad when he headed back towards the others.  I didn’t want him slipping away and doing something even more stupid.  

I stood there for several seconds, feeling my body becoming almost human again.  When I had calmed down enough, the spirit returned control and slunk into the back of my mind.  He was still distracted by some nagging worry I couldn’t identify.  

Something he had seen at Skyhold.  

The knowledge came unbidden, an answer to my curiosity, but he offered nothing beyond that.  I had more pressing matters to deal with.  

I folded my wings behind me and turned around.  Dorian had been knocked into the snow.  I saw bruises blossoming all over his body and his nose was broken and bleeding badly.  His disheveled hair dripped blood and he had a split lip.  He’d sat up since the fight, folded his arms across his knees and he was trying to stop the bleeding of his nose.  His eyes were watering, but I didn’t know if it was the broken nose or if he was crying.  He stared up at me.  

I was reading his mind right now, so I knew that the worry in his eyes was because he saw the blood on me.  He couldn’t see clearly enough right now to realize that it wasn’t my blood.  “Are you alright?”

I crouched and brushed his hair back, trying to make sure there were no cuts concealed by the blood-soaked blackness.  “I was about to ask the same of you.  This isn’t my blood.”

Still dabbing his nose with a section of his now-ruined robe, he eyed me in confusion.  

“I hunt.  Is your nose the worst of it?”

“Not really.”  

I sighed.  I knew what he meant.  He hadn’t wanted to believe that Bryce could do this either.  He’d hoped the Inquisitor might calm down once they were together, might stop hating and screaming at him, but that hadn’t happened.  Reading his mind, it pained me more to know that he only thought things would have gone on like this, with Bryce beating him up.  The sad truth was worse.  Bryce lost all control of his temper when he went off like this.  Seeing into his mind, I knew now that if I hadn’t intervened, he might well have killed Dorian.  He would have regretted it too much to go on and the Inquisition would have probably crumbled.  In a way, I guess I was glad to have gotten involved in all this, knowing Bryce.  I didn’t understand any more why I had so strongly desired to stay out of it all.  Corypheus was a threat to everyone.  

Dorian stared blankly at the stirred up snow that buried his feet, dabbing mechanically at his nose.  He looked devastated.  I hugged him.  He cried openly.  We’d crossed that barrier before we’d really gotten involved romantically.  I’d met him on the ship to Ferelden, shortly after he’d discovered the ritual his father had planned to perform.  I felt my loathing of the magister welling up inside me, but even more strongly I felt the spirit’s hatred flare like a doomed qunari dreadnought at the back of my mind, dwarfing my own dislike.  It shocked me a little to realize that as much as I hated the man for ever considering such a horrendous `solution,’ I’d mistaken the spirit’s fury for my own.  I hated him less than I had thought.  I was idealistic.  I felt that there had to be some good in him, even when the man had tried to do something that rivaled of not outranked even the rite of tranquility as the most wholly abominable things anyone could ever do to another sentient being.  Outright murder was better than taking a man’s freedom, his will to love, his hopes and dreams.  

I had never sought the answer in his mind, but I suspected that Dorian felt the same way on all counts.  Whatever had happened in Redcliffe, he still wanted to believe there was some good in his father, despite the atrocity the man had prepared to commit.  I had felt that after the first time he had told me of it, when I had found him drunk and miserably sea-sick on the deck at night.  He’d been afraid, but I had talked enough to calm him.  He’d needed someone to talk to and had no one else, so, inevitably, the story had come out, and then the tears.  He’d cried until he’d passed out that first night we’d met, so I guess we’d ended up being fairly comfortable bawling out eyes out around each other.  That definitely set a different tone from my usual relationships, which typically involved lots of lust and fighting by each other’s side before things got emotional.  For once, this backwards way of doing things felt right, maybe even more right than the rest ever had.  

I kissed him.  

Not on the lips, on the side of his head, near his ear.  He drew back.  

“What was that?”  His nose had stopped bleeding, but he still looked awful.  He was covered in blood as much as I was and I could no longer tell what had come from him or my dinner.  Between that and the snow we’d both been sitting in, his robes were completely soaked.  

“Let’s get cleaned up.”  I wrapped an arm around his back and helped him to his feet.  The knee he’d injured a few weeks ago still bothered him just a little.  I’d seen him limping at Adamant and figured it must have happened at the canyon, which made me feel a bit guilty for panicking back then.  I wouldn’t abandon him like that again.  

I waved a hand over part of the frozen lake and melted the ice, heating the water until it felt like a warm bath.  I splashed my face a few times and stared rinsing my arms.  Dorian stood on his own, considering the cold and wondering if it was worth taking off the part of his robe that was completely sopping.  It was an outer layer meant only for insulation, but it might keep him warm in the mean time.  

“Take it off, it won’t dry fast enough to keep you warm.”

“Right.”  He threw the bit of cloth aside.  Beneath it, his robes were quite thin.  The upper part was mostly straps and leather and the draping lower section was too short to do much against the cold.  He started shivering in a matter of seconds, even once he got beside me to try and wash off as much blood as he could manage.  I’d already cleaned my wings by now, and with them awkwardly raised above me so the bones wouldn’t hit the ground, I stretched one out and rested the warm skin against his back.  

I guess he remembered how sensitive they were, because he looked at me.  I couldn’t read the emotion in his gaze and I didn’t want to invade his mind for that.  I looked away, standing, but keeping my wing against him.  “It isn’t really a good right time, I know.  I just thought it would help keep you warm.”  

He sighed.  “It isn’t, is it?”  He stood was well and tried in vain to dry his hands on what remained of his robe.  Our clothes were completely ruined except for our boots, which would need to dry for a few days.  We’d have to change once we got back to the carriages, and the others would probably want to leave right away.  I realized the main problem with this and debated a solution in silence as we walked back.  

Bryce leaned against the back of the carriage we’d been riding in, on the opposite side of the road from the fort itself.  He’d probably been trying to hide there, but it had backfired.  When I caught sight of him, the entire entourage save Cole and the carriage drivers, had crowded around him, trying to talk to him.  Bryce looked like a caged animal and I heard him starting to shout as we approached.  It sounded like they realized something had happened, something was wrong.  Most of them were worried, but just as many recognized that we had to get back on the road to reach the Winter Palace in time, and I heard many questions regarding both concerns.  

I got Dorian into the third carriage and closed the door before anyone saw me.  I thought it would be better to keep the fight quiet for a bit or at least let him be alone before he had to talk about it.  He took the time to change clothes.  

By the time I went over to Bryce, he’d edged free of the mob and started to circle back towards the carriage door.  He was still yelling at them when we nearly collided.  All the anger turned to fear when he saw me, like ice becoming steam when dropped in a furnace.  “Kai...”

The man had never been a leader, and that was more true now than ever before.  He needed someone else to take charge and as much as I didn’t want to be that man...

“Bryce, ride in the second carriage.  I’ll move your things.”  I let my gaze soften as he trudged off to follow my orders.  I looked up at Varric.  “Would you want to move to the third carriage?  Solas?  Cole?”  My eyes flicked to each of them as I asked.  Cole was behind me, staring at my wings and his thoughts were apparently in my mind.  

“The colors look like a sunset...is this why—?”

“Cole!  Second or third carriage?”

“I think I should ride in the third.”  I got the sense that he was going to add more to that answer, so I turned to Solas in the hope of preempting any awkward revelations.  

“Solas?”  I was trying to find people who’d be discreet and able to keep up the kind of conversation that might distract Dorian.  I’d asked for Cole in the hope that he’d generate such conversation rather than begin it himself.  Mages and spirits, it seemed a reasonable distraction for someone as wonderfully curious as Dorian.  The man’s love of knowledge was one of my favorite things about him.  

Solas seemed surprised.  “Yes.  I would be glad to move to the third carriage.”  He didn’t ask why I’d offered the place to him when we really didn’t seem to be on the best of terms and I got the sense that he realized something had gone very wrong.  

I looked back at Varric again.  He answered before I asked, raising his hands in surrender.  “Sure, I’ll move my things to the third carriage.”

He went to do so and with both the previous and current occupants of the third carriage busy, the girls and Bull, Cullen, and Blackwall all looked at me for an explanation.  

Josephine spoke first.  “Is everything alright?”

A large part of me wanted to be honest, but I wasn’t sure if I should, or how to phrase the truth.  I let the spirit answer for me, which he did in a very soft and calm voice.  “No.  But I hope that things will be calm by the time that we arrive at Halamshiral.”  He walked back to the carriage to move Bryce’s things and I stumbled as we switched control mid-step.  

_How are you so good at dealing with this sort of thing?_

He seemed to laugh in my mind.  _I have never been good at dealing with this sort of thing, I merely have a talent for deception_.

If I didn’t trust him completely, I would have been worried by that statement.  

 


	25. Plans and Revelations

We set out once everyone was moved around.  The horses here had been rested enough that they could take us to the Winter Palace over the next three days, given some short breaks.  I’d made the right choice picking Varric, Solas, and Cole.  They all understood what had happened as soon as they saw Dorian.  He had changed into clean clothes, but he was still upset and still had clearly lost a fight.  Varric tried to keep the mood light and we all played Wicked Grace for most of the trip, although Solas didn’t seem overly enthusiastic about that.  The elf still helped in his own way, launching into elaborate discussions of magic with Dorian and Cole when Varric’s well of entertainment ran dry for the day.  I got the sense that Solas saw this as the lesser of two evils; he’d rather pretend to like Dorian and discuss magic with him than ride crammed into a carriage with everyone in the group who most distrusted mages.  He wasn’t fond of me either, but Dorian actually wanted to be friends with him and I bore him no hostility, which was easier for him to deal with than open fear, distrust, or even hate.  Besides, he could discuss magic and knowledge with us.  More than once Cole’s frequent questions and remarks cut too deeply into either my past or Dorian’s bad memories, and I had to keep my telepathy constantly scanning to make sure he wasn’t about to upset someone.  

I know that Cole understood what we were doing because one morning while Dorian was still asleep, he looked at me and smiled.  “You want to keep his thoughts on better things so it doesn’t hurt so much.  I like that.  It was going to happen like this anyway, and it could have been worse.  I’m glad you stopped it, even if it hurt you to do so.  You know it would have hurt everyone a lot worse if you hadn’t.”

Varric and Solas, both awake at the time, had very different reactions to that revelation.  

The elf nodded.  “Ah.  So that is what happened.”

Varric frowned at him.  “You know, sometimes I really can’t tell if you actually understand him or if you’re just messing with me.”  He looked up at me.  “Could you translate that, please?”  

He knew most of it, he was just confused by the latter part of what Cole had said.  “I broke up the fight between Bryce and Dorian.  It could have ended much worse.  Let’s not talk about that.”  I glanced pointedly at the mage sleeping half on my arm and under my wing.  He’d leaned against me as he slept, sitting up in the seat, and I’d ended up with one arm around him.  He hadn’t slept well last night, so he was sleeping now.  At night, once Varric was asleep, while Solas and Cole were quietly involved in whatever they chose to do— usually read and explore people’s minds, respectively— I’d talk to Dorian.  Sometimes these talks spiraled into me hugging him while he cried and sometimes we laughed until we could barely breathe.  We didn’t get romantic or anything.  It just didn’t seem right to do so recently after what had happened with Bryce.  Still, he had trouble sleeping and most nights he had nightmares about what had happened.  I started holding him, hugging him and wrapping my wings around him as he fell asleep and realized that that seemed to help.  He was sleeping a bit better now than he had on the first night after the fight.  But it could just be due to the passage of time.  

Varric sought a change of subject.  He nodded at my head.  “What exactly happened to your horns?”

Solas apparently knew and Cole must have read my mind to find out, because they both started to explain, but I got there first.  “If you want the simple explanation, magic.”

Varric nodded.  “Ah.  Glad you’re keeping it simple.”  He frowned then and added, “Could you maybe summarize what exactly you are in similarly simple terms?”

“I’m half-human, half-elven, and possessed, more or less, by a spirit.”  

“Okay.”  He seemed only mildly disturbed by that.  “Okay, that’s at least simple.  You're possessed?”

“Yes.”

“So is this the spirit I’m talking to?”

I chuckled and shook my head.  “No.  He can hear you, though.  Think of it like two people in the same room, it just depends who steps out to speak.  He doesn’t take control very often anymore, he seems distracted.”

Solas actually looked surprised by that.  “So this is Qyvetiq speaking now?”

The spirit leapt into command before I’d fully realized what he was doing.  He still feared Solas and that really scared me.  I had never felt fear from him before except when he dealt with darkspawn.  Was it simply because the mage recognized what he was?  I couldn’t remember.  

“Not anymore.  I am honestly surprised that you cannot tell which of us is in control of this body at any given time.”  There was no hostility intended in his voice, but he sounded almost hostile.  Dorian stirred under the thin membrane of my wing.  He was waking up, possibly because of that slightly harsh tone.  

Cole interjected before either myself or the spirit realized what he was about to say.  

“You’ve seen her at Skyhold, you remember now.  She scares you and she knows how to hurt you, but you’re stronger than her now.”

My eyes flicked over to Cole and the spirit within me grinned.  “Good to know.”

Solas was intrigued.  “You’ve seen who?”

“My sister.”

“Your nightmare sister?”  Dorian was awake, groggy, but apparently he’d heard what had just been said.  The spirit conveyed the answer to me as he gave me back control and I nodded.  

“Apparently so.”  The spirit had a slightly more pronounced accent than I did, go figure, he was used to a very different mouth and speaking ancient Tevene.  Cole, Solas, and Varric all realized in mild surprise that I was back in control.  

Solas, knowing what the spirit inside of me was, drew a conclusion made likely by that fact.  “You have a sister?  Is she also possessed, possibly by a similarly powerful spirit?”

“Yes,” the spirit answered through me.  I got the sense that he was telling Solas as a warning, not an explanation.  “In what we are, we are nearly identical.  Except that passing physically into the Fade corrected the...misalignment of my spirit within this body.  She likely has less command over her form and abilities than I now have over mine.”

Varric understood enough of that to be nervous.  “Well, at least that’s good.  And she’s at Skyhold now?”

I shrugged, in control of my body again.  “Probably.”

Dorian moved to lean against me a little less so he could look at me.  “What exactly do you think she wants?”

I waited for the spirit to answer, but he seemed reluctant.  Eventually, he shrugged.  “I am uncertain.  I do not expect it to be good; my sister has a habit of creating elaborate schemes and often pursues her goals at any cost.”

A long silence settled in the carriage, finally broken by Varric taking out his cards and suggesting another game to take our minds off my sister.  She was my sister in both ways, I realized.  Sister to my hybrid body, sired by the same father with an elven slave.  Sister to what I was, having been bonded to a spirit in the same way before her birth, from what I could remember.  The spirit within me considered her to be his sister as well.  The spirit inside of her was his sister.  

*       *       *

We stopped to change clothes, eat, and freshen up a few hours before we hoped to reach the Winter Palace.  It was the first time I’d really seen anyone from the other carriages; I’d stayed inside the carriage as much as possible on our previous breaks.  Solas and Varric hadn’t spoken to Bryce since the fight and knowing what they did, neither seemed overly thrilled with him, not that he’d been on good terms with Solas from the start.  I wasn’t hungry and I probably wouldn’t need to eat for another month or so, even though the fight had cut my last meal short, but I felt like giving everyone, especially Dorian, a chance to change clothes and get ready for the ball in peace.  Besides, I had something in mind for how I wanted to get involved with him, or at least how I wanted to ask if he would want to get involved with me, and I knew that right now if I was alone in the carriage with him while he changed clothes, I probably wouldn’t be able to wait to ask.  I went out and stretched my wings for a while.  

We stayed stopped for a little over an hour and between flying around and giving everyone else a chance to get ready, I got myself ready.  I bathed in a remote stream with a bit of magic to heat the water and some rose-scented soap.  I tied my hair back in a braided style that helped me look a bit more noble and shaved with the blade of by axe, which I polished and strapped between my wings.  Even now, most of my clothes were simple fur and leather intended for comfort and practicality over fashion, but I had one good outfit.  Good was an understatement.  I had elegant robes of high-quality silk dyed to match my wings with darker sections that shimmered with silver embroidery and platinum and diamond buttons.  The black velvet cloak draping my back and flowing between my half-spread wings had buttons and embroidery to match, all in fine silvery spirals of dragons, clouds, and stars.  I kept the two necklaces I always wore under the fabric, but donned a third, arguably more spectacular one crafted in a stellar array of white gold and more diamonds.  Although I normally wore only a simple steel ring, both my ears were pierced in two places and I switched in an elaborate, glittering silverite and opal earring that supported an almost supernaturally elaborate stylized elven owl with the aid of a fine chain attached to an engraved and unusually wide opal ring on the upper edge of my ear, just below the very slightly pointed tip.  The lower portion had been my mother’s, the upper my father’s.  I’d gotten a jeweler to combine them like that and the mix of elven and Tevinter styles somehow managed to look nice.  

Once I was back near the carriages, Josephine approached me.  She seemed pleasantly surprised to see that I had not been planning to attend in fur and leather.  

“Master Qyvetiq,” the diplomat seemed to notice the quality of my clothing and did a double-take mid sentence, “I...I am not sure there is an easy way to say this, but your less human features may...unsettle some members of the court.  Although I am glad that you have suitable attire for the occasion, perhaps...”  

“I understand.  Aside from my wings, I will appear human for the duration of the ball, and I’m sure that between the two of us it won’t be difficult to convince everyone there that my wings are simply an elaborate fashion statement.  Why, knowing Orlais, I’m certain they’ll be all the rage within a month or so.”

She grinned nervously.  “You may be underestimating the intelligence of the Orlesian court.”

“They have certainly proven themselves quite gullible in the past; I hardly expect this case to be different.”  I stretched my wings one last time and folded them elegantly against my back.  I was eager to get back to Dorian, assuming he had finished getting ready.  He was no doubt enjoying the chance to preen, even if he wouldn’t exactly be popular at the ball, given his origin.  “Well, if there is nothing else...”

I started towards the carriage and Josephine stopped me.  “Master Qyvetiq, there is one more thing.  As you are one of the chief members of the Inquisition, Basile de la Fontaine, the Master of Ceremonies in the Orlesian court, would like to announce your arrival at the ball, and as I find that I really do not know you as anything but `Qyvetiq’...”

I hesitated.  “I hold a title, I suppose, my father was...very powerful, but I would rather not make it known.”  I gave her my full name.  I could have mentioned my pen name, but chose not to.  I would rather be dismissed as a very fashion-forward nobody and ignored than assaulted by fans as Varric no doubt would be.  I chose to conceal my title simply because no one would have believed me without an explanation I didn’t want to give.  

Josephine needed no information beyond that and I returned to the carriage as she bustled off to get similar information from the others.  

I found Dorian pacing, holding a letter, and I knew he was upset even before he turned to face me.  Cole, Solas, and Varric were all still out doing other things, so I stepped into the carriage and closed the door as he handed the crisp sheet of parchment to me.  “Read it.”

Despite the fact that he only had a few feet of floor to walk, he paced incessantly from the time my eyes flicked down to the letter.  I read fast.  Half a sentence in, I knew what it was.  It was from Bryce.  The meaning was clear enough, however awkward his wording and however illegible his script.  I looked back at Dorian sympathetically.  

“He didn’t even _deliver_ it himself.”

“I guess it’s for the best, in a way...”  I stepped towards him, intending to hug him, but he backed away.  

“For the best?!  It’s common courtesy!  If he was afraid it would start another fight, he could have at least delivered it himself...”  He couldn’t back up anymore and I hugged him, but I let him go after a few seconds.  I’d expected him to step back when I did that, now that I had moved to the side and he could have fled the corner, but he only put enough distance between us to be able to balance.  We were practically touching.  The fabric of our clothes brushed together as we breathed.  

“At least it’s over.”

He answered so reflexively that I wasn’t sure how to take it.  “You sure you don’t have ulterior motives for saying that?”  My mouth went completely dry.  I would have thought he meant it angrily if it weren’t for the sparkle in his eyes.  Did he really mean to flirt with me, or was he just so used to flirting that he’d said that automatically?  

I hesitated and he looked away awkwardly.  “Sorry.”  He turned and walked to the other side of the carriage, sitting down before I could conjure up an answer.  

“Would you want—?”

Varric opened the door and I fell silent.  He froze in the doorway and stared at me.  “Sorry.  I didn’t mean to interrupt, but we’re getting ready to head out, everyone’s getting back in the carriages.”  

I nodded, not failing to notice Dorian looking at me curiously.  “Right.”  I sat down beside the mage and gestured Varric to come inside.  

*       *Bryce*       *

I felt absolutely miserable.  Dorian probably hated me and with good reason, the same held true for Kai, terrifyingly enough.  I half expected to dream some demon nightmare from him or find an axe in my back.  I barely managed to put up a stoic front, if I even succeeded in doing that.  I was too scared to get drunk with the ball we were going to.  Josephine had already briefed me and by now I would have been more confident wading into a pit filled with dragons.  

I straightened the hideous red and gold jacket and walked in.  I often felt ridiculous at formal parties like this and wearing bright crimson left me feeling even more obvious.  The sooner we saved the empress, the sooner we could leave.  The Master of Ceremonies announced us all and I listened idly so I’d have something to think about other than how horrible this was going to be.  Most of the titles were unsurprising.  Cassandra yelled at the announcer to skip most of her litany of names.  Solas was read in as my servant, he probably hated that.  Sera pulled a fast one on the Master of Ceremonies, changing her name to Mai Baliseitch of Corrs.  At least that was something amusing.  I’d more or less expected all of that.  Kai’s full name managed to catch my attention, particularly because of the title that preceded it.  

“Lord Qyvetiq Regulus Halam’Banalhan Aurelius Lucian...”  He read straight into the next name, offering no further clarification of that title or name.  Even I recognized that one name as being elven, and apparently I wasn’t the only one, I saw every elf in the room look up at the words and Solas even showed visible surprise.  I mean, I guess it was surprising that he wasn’t merely elf-blooded, but had an elven name, but their shock seemed just a little excessive for that.  

I didn’t have time to think about it.  I planned to save the empress and get out of here as fast as I could, I could ask Kai about his name later, if he was even willing to talk to me.  I didn’t expect to speak to either him or Dorian unless I had to, so it came as a huge surprise when Kai ambushed me shortly after my meeting with the empress.  He caught me in a nearly empty corridor between the vestibule and the gardens and hauled me down the stairs to speak in the relative privacy there.  Blackwall seemed to be trying to hide here as well, I had never seen the grumpy old warrior look so uncomfortable.  He slunk over to the other end of the room and Kai hardly seemed to see him.  

I’d expected a tirade, but there was no hostility in Kai’s thunderous voice when he spoke.  He sounded almost gentle.  “I don’t hate you.  You know that, right?”  I stared at him.  That was certainly news to me.  “You can be a real ass sometimes and I’ll admit that you piss me off, and Dorian really didn’t deserve what you did to him, but I don’t hate you.  I understand you.  We’re much more alike than you probably realize.”  

The spirit took him over and I realized it partly because he got this arrogant, almost flirty look to him and grinned at me.  He spoke in a much stronger accent, hardening every consonant like a weapon strike and really flowing through his vowels as if he was singing.  “I feel similarly.  I care about you, Bryce, don’t do anything stupid.  I’ll do everything in my power to keep you alive.  I might be able to do more than you realize.  I have full command of my magic and my form.  It might not last more than a few hours, but I can take a form that would let me fight Corypheus’ dragon on equal terms, at the very least.  I might even be able to handle them both, if I tried, but you have to kill Corypheus.”

“Because I have the Anchor?”  That disappointed me.  I’d never asked for this.  Couldn’t it be given to someone else, someone who could actually lead?  There had to be some way to do that, with magic being as incredible as it was.  I mean, magic had gotten mortals into the Golden City, magic had started the Blights, it had to be able to move one stupid little mark to someone else, right?

I guess this spirit decided to do that little thing that Cole did.  He chuckled sadly and shook his head.  “The Anchor cannot be moved without a great deal of blood magic.  That would never happen.  And I do not mean that you must kill him because of the Anchor.  I will not become a legend.  I will not become a hero.  That must be you.  You have led the Inquisition thus far, you must see this out.  You will be viewed as a savior, you already are, but you must finish this.  Once that is done, if you wish, I will help you hide, help you find somewhere that no one will know you.  Do you want that?”

I nodded.  

The spirit paused for a moment and asked very softly.  “When you leave...I would like to part with Qy and travel with you.”

I stepped back from him.  “Wait.  Are you saying that you want to _possess_ me?”

He shook his head, chuckling a little.  “This would not be possession.  I am possessing Qyvetiq because I had little choice in the matter, I doubt that a normal body could survive containing my spirit.  I have a physical form.  Once I find it, I believe that I can shape it.  I could travel with you freely, appearing as a human.”

“...like Cole?”

He bobbled his head.  “In a way.  Qyvetiq knows none of this.  I will tell him what he must know, but I would prefer if the rest was kept between us.  I do not know if he yet realizes that I can separate from him and I fear he would react very badly.  He does not need that right now.”

That was a lot to take in.  “What are you?  Really?  What kind of spirit?”

He grinned and gave me a brief bow, dropping back to relinquish control to Kai, who didn’t seem to notice that any time had passed.  He blinked and stared at me.  “Are you really that surprised?  Aside from the magic and possession, we’re really very similar people.  I care about you Bryce, as a friend, not romantically.  I don’t want you to do anything stupid.  I know I could never handle leading the Inquisition and I know it must be very stressful, between that and nearly dying all the time and me and Dorian...”

He frowned at my continued confusion.  “What?  That didn’t seem all that surprising to me.”

I shook my head.  “Sorry, just...a lot to deal with right now.”

“I know.”  He rested his wing across my shoulders in what he probably meant as a comforting gesture.  It was a little unsettling.  I still liked him, probably a lot more than I really should, considering he was probably with Dorian now.  He didn’t look like my father anymore.  That bothered me a bit too.  

*       *Qyvetiq*       *

This was just getting awkward.  I realized why he was being so awkward as I put my wing around him.  He still had feeling for me.  The thing was, my mutual attraction had never really been mine, it was the spirit’s.  The spirit still had feelings for him.  It was like joining my nonexistent brother on a date, except he used my body.  This was way too weird, even for me.  

I’d made my point, so I left, folding my wings again and climbing the stairs.  The spirit was quiet in the back of my mind, but I felt that he was thinking about Bryce and that distracted me.  Bryce was good-looking and all, but anything romantic towards him had only ever been the spirit and never me.  It disturbed me to feel the spirit’s thoughts about him at the back of my mind.  

I nearly ran into Solas.  He addressed me in ancient elven.  “‘Halam’Banalhan’?”

“Yes?”

He repeated my name translated literally.  

“My mother’s hope for me.  Hence the name.”

“Your elven mother?”  He seemed suspicious, “Then she survived your birth?”

I shook my head.  “She and my father were not enemies, unlike many of the other women involved.  From what I can discern, she was perhaps the only one he actually cared about.  It destroyed him when she died, and I think that was part of what drove him mad.  She gave me the name before my birth, she told it to him.  I believe that they named me together, actually.”

“You claimed to remember nothing of your birth.”

“I remember nothing of it myself.  My father kept meticulous journals.  Unfortunately, he documented his personal life separately from his experiments and the latter documents were destroyed when he died.  What little I remember of the incident can be summarized as `powerful mages going insane ends very badly for anything that isn’t fireproof.’”

“Your father loved an elf?”

“Is that so difficult to believe?”

“He was a Tevinter noble.”

“Yes.  In the days of the Exalted March.  Yes, she was originally a slave.  He freed her.  Of course, it was kept secret, but by all rights she lived as a queen.”

“In her cage.”

“In his estate.  She was not truly free, my family was hardly perfect, but he gave her the best life that he rightly could.”

“In Tevinter.”

“Under the rule of the Chantry.  In Tevinter.  Neither are paragons of equality.”

“Would you change them?”

“I don’t want power.”

“That is irrelevant.”

I sighed and glanced down the hall.  Two elven servants had turned to watch, but they hastily continued their conversation.  “I do want equality.  But if it is not possible, I admit, I would favor mages over the non-magical.  But I would include elven mages.”

“Magic is might.  You truly are Tevinter.”

“You expected otherwise?”  I blinked at him calmly.  He was nearly hostile, although at least he was civil about it; I was simply being honest.  “The right of tranquility, imprisonment, torture, and murder of even those merely suspected to be mages?  Is that the better option?”

He thought and sighed.  “But you would have equality, if it proved possible?”

“I do not plan to change the world, Solas.  But yes, if it proved possible.”

He nodded.  We were silent for a moment until I started to walk away.  “Halam’Banalhan, let us hope your mother’s wish is fulfilled.”

I nodded and he slunk back into the crowd.  

I went to find Dorian.  


	26. Only Once

I had been planning to seek Dorian out after speaking to Bryce, and I did so.  I let the spirit inside me follow his scent.  I had found that I could not change form myself, he had to control the change, and likewise only he could read minds or track by scent.  

Dorian had spent time in most of the occupied rooms, wandering the party, but he’d ended up retreating from the public eye shortly before I tracked him down.  Judging from his path, he had started to seek an escape early on.  I hardly blamed him, even he might have trouble dealing with a hostile crowd after recent events.  I hoped to lighten his mood.  I was glad he was isolated for that reason as well.  

I found Dorian in the palace library, because of course it was the library where he had found peace.  That thought alone put me in a good mood, even if being alone with him hadn’t already done so.  

“Do you have some sixth sense that lets you find libraries everywhere you go or do they simply draw you to them like spirits to rifts?”

He smiled at me.  He tried to hide it, but I could tell that he was still upset, no doubt by Bryce.  As much as I cared about and worried for Bryce, I had to admit that I really wanted to punch him for attacking Dorian like that, especially because I knew that I had probably saved Dorian’s life by intervening.  

“Cole let me in.  He must have wandered off since then, I can’t remember where he went.”  He looked around for the spirit boy and I did the same, both me and the spirit within me failing to spot him.  

“He must have gone back to the party.  It’s probably fascinating for him.  I know it’s interesting for the spirit in me, but he’s seen The Game often enough to grow bored with it.”

“Bored?  With political intrigue and court scandals?  Perish the thought!”

I laughed and walked over to him, leaning against the bookshelf in front of him, purposefully putting myself so close that my wing brushed against his leg.  “I can hardly tell if you’re sarcastic or truly amused.  It’s really quite entertaining, in my opinion anyway.”

“Do you mean me or court intrigue?”

“Both.”

He fell silent for a moment, studying me.  He was more than a little drunk and I was surprised that I hadn’t noticed that straight away.  “Where have you been hiding this stunning outfit?  I was almost convinced that you owned absolutely nothing that wasn’t entirely made from animal hide.  But that necklace...something really _must_ be done about your taste in jewelry, my friend...”

The way he just segued into criticizing my outfit...something was bothering him, possibly something beyond Bryce.  “What’s on your mind, Dorian?”

He paused, carefully examining the diamonds on my necklace.  I got the sense that he hadn’t missed the Master of Ceremonies announcing me as a lord, and now he was wondering exactly what my rank and wealth truly was.  It wasn’t that it really mattered to him, more that he had mistaken me for an oddly educated sailor and hermit.  He felt a bit guilty to have been so wrong about me, even though he had never said anything about it and I expected to be dismissed as such.  Damn it, the spirit was reading his mind again and letting me know what it found.  Feeling my discomfort with the invasion of his privacy, I felt the spirit drop further back into my own mind for the time being.  

“What were you going to say earlier, in the carriage?”

I sighed, reaching into my pocket and pulling out the Pavus birthright.  “I got this for you.”  

He took it, marveling at it, turning it over in his hands and shaking his head.  “What?  How?  Why?  How did you even know...?”

“I wanted to see if Leliana had noticed my sister at Skyhold.  I went through her reports.  I found nothing on my sister, but I _did_ discover that you had been trying to get this back.”

He shook his head again, still shocked.  “ _How_?”  He looked almost suspicious.  

“I didn’t kill him, Dorian.”  I barely kept myself from adding, _“I’m not Bryce.”_ “I showed him my own amulet and talked him down.  He handed it over quite willingly.”

He grinned a little, glad to have the amulet back, but not entirely trusting.  “You had horns when you spoke to him, didn’t you?”He didn’t quite catch that I had claimed to have my own amulet, implying one with a similar meaning as his.  

“No.  I even hid my wings that time.”

He frowned.  “You showed him _your_ amulet?  As in you showed him your own Tevinter birthright?”  

I nodded and tried to extract it from beneath my shirt.  All three of my necklaces had gotten tangled together; I dredged up a mass of tangled chain and jewelry and struggled to separate them.  

Dorian stepped closer to help after a few seconds of jingling metal made it obvious that I couldn’t see the problem clearly enough to part the chains.  I unclasped the gaudy diamond necklace and pocketed it, aiming to let Dorian see my Tevinter birthright.  Instead, I looked down to see him holding my other heirloom necklace in open awe.  It was a shield-shaped plate of gold a bit larger than the palm of my hand and nearly as thick, so old that the owl and elven writing carved into it were nearly invisible and so soft that it could almost be shaped by hand.  It was clearly ancient.  

“Where did you _get_ this?”  

“It was my mother’s.”

“It’s _ancient_.  Easily Tower Age, if not...  How old is this?”

“Glory Age.  2:28, if I had to guess.”

He laughed softly.  “You `guess’ an exact year?  Did this have a date written on it or something?”

I chuckled but didn’t mean it.  He could tell.  We lapsed into awkward silence.  He eyed the other pendant.  That one looked very similar to his own except that it was as worn and ancient as the golden owl.  He was apparently too drunk to recognize the house, or else it just slipped his mind.  “You’re nobility?”

“So are you.  It doesn’t necessarily mean that much.  I haven’t had access to my father’s wealth in...in a long time.”

He traced the intricate design of my pendant, I could see his mind struggling to recognize the ancient crest.  Squinting at what remained of the once-exquisite detail, he rested his arms against my chest.  He was standing so close that the rest of our bodies were practically touching.  

“What I’d wanted to ask on the carriage...would you...would you want something...with me?  A relationship, I mean.  Beyond friendship.”

“You need to ask?”

I kissed him and he kissed me back, pressing me back against the bookshelf.  One hand eased my coat off my shoulders and the other slid down my chest to tug at the buttons of my robe.  I let him push me back and gripped his hips, pulling them forward to press him against me.  I was already starting to get hard and once I did that, he started to do the same.  He got my robes unbuttoned and the fine silk slid to the floor, the leggings I wore beneath them were tied loosely at my waist and doubled as small clothes.  I don’t think he realized that until he untied them.  Still locked in the kiss, he fumbled for another waistline and instead his fingers found the shaft of my cock.  He broke the kiss to glance down.  

From the front, even hard, he couldn’t see anything beyond my balls.  I still kissed him before he could stare for too long.  He was going to find it, to some degree I wanted him to.  I hoped he’d be alright with it, but there was still a chance...  It terrified me to think that he might freak out.  Worst case scenario, he wouldn’t be able to romance me because of that.  I hoped for anything else.  I slid my hand down to pull down his pants.  

He broke the kiss again, hesitating, but I could feel him breathing hard.  I could tell how much he wanted this to go further.  

“Before I forget, thanks.  For getting my amulet back.”

I nodded and plunged back into the kiss, leaning against the bookshelf again and pulling him forward with my hands on his waist.  I expected him to say something about the position, or start to kneel, or _something_ , but instead he broke the kiss almost immediately.  I guess lust still somehow got the better of him, even as he pulled back to talk, because one of his hands slid down to my groin, lightly brushing the base of my cock before exploring the soft skin of my scrotum.  I managed not to moan.  I was still very aware of where we were and hardly desired to provoke quite that level of scandal, as entertaining as it would have been.  I hoped we could do this quietly enough to go unnoticed.  His other hand stroked his own erection just enough to stay hard.  

“I’m sorry.  For whatever I did the last time this happened.  Whatever scared you off after we got off the ship in Ferelden.  Whatever I said, I’m sorry.”  His fingers wandered over to the back side of my balls, still gently exploring.  

I stood very still.  “What is it, exactly, that you think you said?”

“What did I say?”  He frowned, but I nodded expectantly, waiting for his guess first.  His fingers brushed the inside edge of my thigh.  He sighed and guessed.  “Something highly insulting about your beautiful wings, I would imagine.  Or your horns.  Or that magnificent tail you used to have.”

My answer caught in my throat.  “Uh, well, I-I...  Not really...”

He frowned more quizzically than before as his hand paused to stroke the skin where my leg met my crotch.  “Then what exactly did I say?  What drove you off?”

“Well, it was something you, um, _noticed_ about me...not exactly something demonic or magical, but...well, something you’re probably about to discover again—”

The words barely left my mouth when his wandering fingers slipped up and inside of me.  I think he’d been meaning to press against my taint or maybe toy with my other entrance.  I didn’t really know if he was expecting to be the top or the bottom right now, come to think of it.  Whatever he’d been planning, his probing fingers suddenly plunged at least halfway into the warm, very wet slit that was the only female part of me.  I failed to stifle an involuntary moan and grimaced.  

*       *Dorian*       *

There was no fucking way.  At that moment, I really might have been more eager to believe that Qy truly was possessed by the spirit of the Old God Lusacan than that he might, just _might_ , have a vagina.  No.  there was just no way.  

I jerked my hand back as if it had been scalded and wiped it frantically on a sheet of blank parchment nearby.  In retrospect, I might have hurt him from how quickly I drew back, but the thought didn’t even cross my mind at the time.  I nearly gagged.  That had been absolutely disgusting!  The sheer mix of shock, disbelief, and revulsion started me pacing.  

“That?!  _That?!_   _That’s_ what you were hiding?!  That?!”  I shook my head, shuddering again, “Were you even going to _tell_ me?!”  

He stared at me grimly.  “You didn’t react any better when I _did_ tell you.  Actually, you hardly gave me the chance, that time.  I barely got the words out before you saw it...”

I stopped, halted by the look in his eyes.  He’d looked away halfway through the explanation and now he stared bitterly at a crack in the floor boards.  He hated it, I realized.  Absolutely despised it, even though it was part of him.  He was completely ashamed that he had it and desperately wished he didn’t.  

“Can’t you...shape-change or something?  Get rid of it?”

He shook his head.  “I’ve tried.  Often.  It doesn’t go away.”

“...This is what split us up last time?”

He nodded.  He looked like he was going to say more, but he didn’t for a while.  He sighed and started to reach for his leggings, clearly intending to dress again.  

I stopped him.  “Sorry.  I didn’t mean to...  I was just...surprised.”  Yeah, surprise, like when you find a viper in your tent.  Lovely surprise, that is.  

He managed to look slightly less miserable and held his leggings in one hand, leaving them half up one leg.  I still felt terrible seeing how brutally ashamed he felt about it.  “You know we don’t need to...deal with it.  We can do other things.”

I hesitated, not quite pacing, but shifting my weight uneasily.  “Would you want to...`deal with it’?”

He broke eye contact again.  His gaze returned to the crack in the floor.  “It’s a-alright if you don’t want to...”

“Qy, I’m offering.  Once.  Maybe.  Do you want to...”  I couldn’t quite form the words.  The idea was admittedly repellant, but...this was Qy.  This issue had apparently driven us apart before, over the course of one single night, and as disgusted as I was...this was Qy.  I couldn’t bear the shame in his eyes.  I really really _really_ _did not want to do this_ , but if doing it once would make him feel better and make amends for however badly I’d reacted before, then maybe it would be worth it.  There were worse things I could do.  I was offering _once_.

At length, he nodded, grudgingly.  “I...yes.”

I walked back over to him, trying not to think too much about what we were going to do lest I gag or find myself unable to go through with it.  He looked at me, shame slowly giving way to gratitude and possibly something more.  His irises slowly turned a deep sapphire blue.  I focused on that, trying to distract myself wondering why he chose to change his eye-color now.  Maybe he realized how deeply this bothered me.  I felt like I was about to stick my arm into a nest of spiders and I probably wasn’t able to completely hide that emotion.  

He grimaced.  “I didn’t mean...you don’t _have_ to...”

I sighed and glowered at his chest, really starting to get annoyed with how tentative he was being about this.  If it would get him over that, I would do it.  Once.  At least I’d really put forth my best effort to get through it.  Once.  Only once.  “Qy.  I offered.  If you want me to, I _will_ do this once.  Only once.  Only for you, only because I owe you for getting my amulet back, and only once.”  By now, the position I was in, with him backed up against the bookshelf, I was pretty sure that I’d only really need one motion to get started with this, so if he was stopping me, now was the time.  I’m pretty sure he understood that my amulet had almost nothing to do with this.  The reason was him, because I couldn’t watch him looking like he hated any part of himself, even the part that I really wasn’t fond of either.  And I would have felt guilty for the rest of my life if I never tried to make amends for whatever I’d said about it that had driven him off.  

Qy buried his head in my neck, resting his hands on my back.  “I _am_ a man.  I don’t know why I have that and I hate it.  I’m sorry.”  

Now I couldn’t tell if he was making this difficult or guilting me into sex like this.  “You don’t need to apologize...”

He nuzzled my collarbone.  “Thank you.”

Right.  Well, I guess I just had to get this over with...

The first thrust in was absolutely disgusting.  Neither of us were still hard at this point and I’d been desperately hoping that I’d be able to distract myself enough to fix that during the act.  That was more or less what happened.  He was actually fairly tight around me, I might have had some trouble pushing into him if he wasn’t so wet.  I somehow managed not to think about what I was thrusting into and got a bit more vigorous as I went, which also helped, but I’m not sure things would have really worked out if he hadn’t gotten hard almost immediately.  Having a massive cock rubbing against my abdomen as I thrust into him made it easy to forget exactly what it was I was thrusting into.  I guess that was the one benefit of this position.

I got more into it as I noticed that.  At first I’d just wanted to get us both to finish so I’d never have to do this again, but to my surprise it was sort of alright after I got used to it.  It felt good, admittedly, and he clearly enjoyed it.  As long as I didn’t think too carefully about what I was doing, I could actually enjoy this.  Not that I’d admit that to Qy.  At least not too quickly.  At least for a little while, I’d rather he think this was some awful chore to do it like this with him.  

I’m not really sure how well I managed to convince him of that by the time we were done.  By the time we were both hard again, he was moaning into my shoulder and a few minutes later, I struggled not to do the same.  The spiced punch was probably stronger than I’d expected or I would have been a bit more cautious, given where exactly we happened to be.  Kai hardly seemed to care about that.  We both cried out when we came and I prayed nobody heard us.  He came before I did, which felt drastically different being inside of him this way than being inside someone in, well, in the way I was used to.  His muscles squeezed my cock and I had to admit that I actually held myself back for a moment just to enjoy that.  The rest of him came as well and most of it missed us both and dripped onto the floor.  I guess that was lucky; less likely to cause a scandal if it couldn’t really be traced.  It wasn’t like it had gotten on our clothes.  

*       *Qyvetiq*       *

I wrapped my wings around Dorian as we stood there, letting our breathing slowly get back to normal.  I realized off-hand that the habit of wrapping my lovers in my wings after sex had been the spirit’s habit all along and I’d just picked it up from him.  I wondered awkwardly just how many of my lovers had really been men that he was attracted to.  I supposed I would have to go through the list myself one day just to check.  The spirit had stayed almost completely dormant in the back of my mind since we’d started, which I appreciated.  It was awkward enough knowing he was there, aware of everything I was doing without feeling him actively paying attention, looking over my shoulder, as it were.  

I looked down at Dorian, who was quietly looking around.  I suspected that he, like me, half-expected to be walked in on after the noise we’d made.  I hoped that the Winter Palace had thick walls.  

Once it seemed safe to assume that we had gone unheard, I asked him very softly.  “So, it was tolerable?”

“Tolerable?”  He looked up at me.  “Hardly.”

I laughed.  “Really?  That bad?  Surprising, considering—”

“Yes.  I did enjoy it, shockingly enough.  You know me too well.”

He grinned sincerely and I did so half-heartedly.  I’d expected him to recognize my amulet when I showed it to him earlier, hopefully realize what it meant, but he hadn’t.  There was something I should tell him before things went further.  “Dorian...”

He recognized the seriousness of my tone and narrowed his eyes.  “Yes?”

“You didn’t recognize the amulet I wear.  There’s something you should know about me...”

I expected a joke, or some similarly witty remark, but he just listened, worriedly.  I continued.  “The amulet is the birthright of House Lucian.”

“Lucian...”  He was tracing the lineage, trying to place where I fit in to the nobility.  He remembered the ancient Magisters of that house, later displaced by his own family, but the last known descendant had not been a magister, but rather...  Damn, the spirit was reading Dorian’s mind again.  

“As in _Archon_ Augustus Lucian?”

I nodded.  “My father.”

Yet again, he stared in disbelief.  “...but that was...almost seven hundred years ago.”

I nodded again.  

He seemed practically frozen.  Eventually, he blinked and sat down in a chair nearby.  “You’re...how old are you?”

“Roughly seven hundred, by your own math.  My memory sort of...fades after so long.  I think this is the spirit’s doing.  Something about being possessed.  I don’t die.  I’m not sure I even can.”

We watched each other for another few silent minutes before he shook his head and sighed.  “After everything else, I can hardly disbelieve that.”  He remained silent for another few minutes, so long that I almost started to get dressed before he suggested softly, “Want to go again?”

I hadn’t expected that and he clearly saw the shock in my expression.  “What?  After everything we’ve gone through to actually become involved with each other, you think I’ll let a tiny little age gap stop me?”

I grinned.  “That’s exactly why I find you so irresistible.”

*       *Cole*       *

I watched them start up again, more focused on their minds than their bodies.  Dorian held back so it took longer than it needed to because it didn’t bother him so much after the first time.  Qy was just really happy that Dorian accepted him now, including the part of him that he hated.  

I didn’t really understand what they were doing, but I knew that they liked it.  It meant something to them, Dorian hoped it meant that they would be together at least for a while and Qyvetiq hoped that it meant he could be with Dorian until the mage eventually died, but it was more than that.  Qy didn’t understand how much had changed when he passed through the Fade and I knew that the spirit inside of him knew this.  It was a little sad, but mostly happy.  It hoped that Qy would be happier now because it could leave and because he wouldn’t be stuck anymore.  He would be able to live like a human once it left, be able to die someday.  I hoped it would not be soon, but I could feel how tired he was.  He had lived so long that the years built up hurt and weighed him down.  He didn’t want to watch another person he loved die and neither did the spirit, but the spirit was stronger now.  He might not have to.  

In the back of Qy’s mind, I felt the spirit notice me and he seemed to smile.  He’d tried to explain the concept of privacy to me before and now he tried again.  I think I understood, maybe.  They wanted this to be just between the two of them, that was also why he was hiding in the back of Qy’s mind, staying away from the moving thoughts so he wouldn’t notice him as much.  He wanted me to go so I wouldn’t bother them either.  I was alright with that.  They were finally happy now.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this might end up being the last sex scene in this story, and considering that, I was wondering, does this all deserve an explicit rating? I gave it the rating because I knew that Qy being hermaphroditic was a plot point I would have to describe, but I've mostly written the sex scenes in a less explicit way than I expected. Is it explicit still, or would it be better with just a mature rating? Or unrated? I'm leery to set it unrated just because I feel like most of that would be assumed to be explicit even if it isn't...


	27. Truth Be Told

*       *Bryce*       *

Somehow everything managed to turn out alright in the end.  Not only did we save the empress, but we got her back together with Briala.  Well, okay, getting them back together was mostly my doing, it wasn’t like they let the whole Inquisition meet privately with the contenders for the throne, but I couldn’t have gotten that far without the others.  They did most of it, really, court intrigue had never been my thing, I was just glad I didn’t make a complete ass of myself.  I know there was more than one occasion where I said the wrong thing or accidentally bumped into someone in the halls or on the dance floor, but at least it didn’t end badly.  

I kept thinking back to when we had to fight the duchess.  I hated fighting anything that wouldn’t stay still and tonight had been almost nothing stationary, the duchess in particular kept running away as soon as I’d get close enough to bash that smug grin off her face with my shield.  The woman had been infuriating and I couldn’t help but grin thinking of her ultimate demise.  Kai had been the one to kill her, or rather it had been the spirit possessing him.  I wanted to hate it because of what it was, a spirit, possessing him, but the more I dealt with the damn thing the more I grew to like it.  After about the third or fourth time that the damn duchess teleported away, the spirit had taken over Kai’s body.  He’d hopped up off the ground and in two flaps he’d not only found her but landed in front of her.  

“You act so confident, Grand Duchess,” he’d explained, loathing and arrogance practically dripping from every word, “but I’m afraid there’s something crucial you’ve failed to realize.”

Holding her blades at the ready, she had stepped back, prepared to jump away again.  “And what, pray tell, is that?”

He’d grinned.  “This has never been an axe.”  He’d spun that massive dragon-bone weapon effortlessly, flipping the six-foot shaft and sending the blades whistling through the air.  He’d jabbed the carved dragon-skull on what I’d always presumed to be the butt-end of the weapon towards the startled duchess, blasting an arch of lightning down the gleaming surface of the staff and nearly incinerating the duchess.  That last second where her expression flipped from haughty to horrified had been absolutely priceless.  

The others hadn’t exactly been useless either, when we’d chased this infernal jester to an upstairs hallway, Dorian had coated the floor in ice, knocking the smug clowny bastard on his ass.  He was clearly avoiding me and we hadn’t said a word to each other since I’d attacked him, and it may have just been my imagination, but he seemed almost alright with me now.  He was still angry and probably still upset, and he had every right to be, I felt awful, but at least now it seemed like maybe we might one day be friends again, or at least be civil with each other.  

Most of the other had picked up that something had happened, but only Varric was really more noticeably distant from me than before, and he seemed to at least understand that I regretted what I’d done.  Kai and Dorian were clearly together now and I found to my surprise that I was happy for them.  I’d expected to be jealous and to some degree I was, but I knew things would have ended badly if I was with either of them and was just glad that Dorian would be with someone who’d keep him safe.  

We headed back to Skyhold mostly in the carriages, but there was less of a rush now so we stopped to picnic along the way.  At on such pause, while everyone was busy eating, Cassandra seemed particularly brooding.  

“If the Archdemon survived the fall into the abyssal rift,” she mused aloud, “I wonder if it _can_ be slain.”

Kai looked up, halfway through tearing apart a sandwich.  He’d actually been eating with us for a change, and not just once but every meal since the Winter Palace.  I wasn’t sure if I was glad or disturbed; his table manners were even worse than mine, he ate like a starved mabari.  Bull and Sera had both remarked on that earlier, but he’d answered as evasively as ever.  I guess he was just used to eating like that, having eaten alone for however long before now.  

Failing to notice Kai’s interest in the topic, Dorian paused his eating to reply, “Proof it isn't an Archdemon at all, I'd say.”

Cassandra frowned at him.  “What do you mean?”

“If Grey Wardens are good for anything, it's killing an Archdemon.  This one rose again.  I'd say Corypheus created it. A tribute to his Old Gods, or an emulation of them.”  

Kai snorted into his meal.  “Tribute?  Miserable attempt if it is.”  Correction.  This was not Kai speaking, it was the spirit taking him over again to talk.  That was really getting confusing.  “No, I’d suspect it’s more likely a mockery unless he’s just so insane that it really _is_ his deranged attempt at honoring them...”

“Mockery?  A priest of Dumat mocking the Old Gods?”

The spirit nodded.  “He _did_ enter the Fade seeking to serve them, and look how he ended up?  I would say it’s entirely possible that he blames them for what happened, believes that they did this to him somehow.”  He scarfed down another enormous bite of his food and laughed grimly.  “Thing is, if he’s blaming the Old Gods, most likely Dumat, he’s missed his chance to mock him.  Even if one of the Old Gods did this, there are probably only two left, as I highly doubt that anything that could rightly be deemed an Old God survives after the destruction of an Archdemon.  The only two remaining that he might mock almost certainly had nothing to do with his current situation.”  He paused for another bite.  “Unless Raz has really been outdoing herself.”

Everyone stared at him, and not just because this was more than the spirit had said in the past three days of travel combined.  

Dorian spoke first.  “Raz...as in _Razikale, the Dragon of Mystery_?”

The spirit looked at him, grinning enigmatically, took another bite of lunch, and his expression shifted suddenly to mild confusion.  

Kai eyed everyone curiously.  “What?”  This was definitely Kai and not the spirit.  I think everyone but Sera realized what had just happened.  

*       *Dorian*       *

Up until now, I’d presumed that Qy was well aware of all the spirit’s actions, but that didn’t seem to be the case, given his current confusion.  

Cassandra scrutinized him and stated flatly, “You are possessed.”

Qy frowned quizzically.  “Yeah.  Was he talking?  Just now?”  Slowly, everyone nodded.  

I expected shock or at least surprise, but he just shrugged and went back to eating.  

“He left the conversation at a rather critical point,” I explained, “do you know exactly what kind of spirit he is?”  Now that I knew how old Qy was I’d started looking at everything he and the spirit had said a bit more closely.  As much as I didn’t want to believe it, I had a theory that he really might be somehow possessed by the spirit of the Old God, Lusacan.  That last remark made it seem even more likely.  It occurred to me that no one else knew how old he was or had heard half the little remarks that led me to suspect this.  Obviously, Sera, Bull, Varric, and Blackwall probably didn’t want to know or even think about it and I doubted that most of them would believe it if that was the truth, but Cassandra, Josephine and Cullen, might have the chance to pick up on that if they knew more.  Not that I was going to tell them, the whole theory seemed much too ridiculous to even seriously consider, I shuddered to note how likely it really seemed.  An Old God?  Not only undeniably real, but possessing a friend of mine— not only that, but a man I cared for very very deeply?  It was absolutely preposterous!  Oh, no, I wasn’t admitting that I even suspected this until I was really certain.  They already distrusted me, this would have just led them to deem me insane.  If Leliana had knowledge more specific to the arcane, I would actually think that she already knew the truth, but as it was, I doubted that.  Vivienne, though a mage, had always been much too afraid of spirits to really have a chance of knowing what possessed Qy.  Even if she discovered the truth, she would probably just assume it was a demon, whether or not that was correct.  Cole almost certainly knew already, not that he was going to tell us.  As much as he tried to help, he did tend to share only the awkward and embarrassing truths aloud.  The new mage, Morrigan, seemed only mildly surprised to learn that he was possessed.  They apparently knew each other but weren’t remotely friendly and I doubted that she had any idea about what he was, even though she seemed fairly knowledgable.  Solas, on the other hand, given the way he just quietly observed this conversation now as well as the odd tension between him and Qy, had probably known for certain as soon as they met.  I wondered if that was an elf thing.  Did he just instinctively know that Qy had a spirit inside of him?  He had certainly recognized that he was not as he appeared; since the first time I’d seen them together, they’d acted like horses and mabari’s— each highly distrustful of the other, but cooperating for the greater good.  I mean, I understood the sentiment myself, but this was almost...alarming.  There was too much fear on both sides of their cautious stares to make me comfortable with that.  Solas almost certainly recognized what Qy was, but if Qy was really possessed by an Old God...then what was Solas that he could frighten it with only a glance?

Predictably, Qy only shrugged in response to the question.  “Did he tell you what he is?”

I shook my head.  “Frustratingly enough, he didn’t.”

Qy chuckled, still eating between words.  “He does that.”

*       *Qyvetiq*       *

I wasn’t sure if Dorian believed me and didn’t want to invade his thoughts to check.  The spirit lurked unhelpfully in the back of my mind.  I really did know what he was, just not what he was doing.  He was powerful, I wasn’t sure how powerful right now, but definitely more powerful that I ever could be.  Not as powerful as he could be either.  

Whether or not everyone believed what I had said, they let it go.  We made it back to Skyhold uneventfully and agents told Leliana that Corypheus’s forces were looking for something in the Arbor Wilds.  Bryce set out immediately with Vivienne, Blackwall, Varric, Cullen, Leliana, Morrigan and the army; he planned to get back as soon as possible.  I guess he or Cullen was afraid that the movement in the Arbor Wilds was a trap.  

The spirit felt more and more agitated as time went on and his agitation left me uneasy.  I started noticing more gaps in my memory now that I was looking for them, times when he took me over for anywhere from a fraction of a second to several hours.  It bothered me a little, but I still knew that I wouldn’t really be alive, let alone the man I was today without him.  My memory of the past in general was pretty sparse, but I got the sense of those facts and trusted that they were true.  I owed him, and I liked him.  Not romantically, he was like a brother to me, I suppose, or maybe more like a father.  I didn’t want him looking in on my every action, that was still disturbing even after all these centuries, even having known nothing else, but it would be weird to me if he wasn’t there.  I trusted that those little gaps when he took me over and concealed what he’d done were both important and innocuous.  I trusted him, even if it worried me that he was worried and that he was hiding things from me.  He had something important on his mind, possibly several things, and I wanted to help him.  When I found a gap in my memory, I trusted him about it.  

*       *???*       *

As much as I had many more crucial tasks, I took over Qy’s body briefly for one gem of an indulgence.  The very idea that the Grey Wardens would summon an army of demons to slay the remaining Old Gods in order to preempt the Blight appalled me, and I found myself deeply disgusted by anyone who might give them that idea.  I was hardly fond of Corypheus himself, but I had to admit I was drawn to the thought of Tevinter being restored to its former glory, preferably with less slavery and freedom for mages of any race.  Corypheus was confused.  I understood that.  Erimond had no excuse.  And the fool had mistaken me not only for a qunari, but for a warrior and an enemy of Tevinter.  His crimes were inexcusable.  

I found him in his cell, of course, still awaiting trial while Bryce was too busy to judge him yet.  I approached him in my dress robes, the same exquisite outfit I had worn at the Winter Palace.  No horns, no tail, wings hidden folded beneath my velvet cloak, my irises a deep maroon.  I let my clawed toes scrape the cobblestone floor with every step.  He mistook the sound for armored boots.  

I stepped into view and he sneered.  “Back again, qunari?  Did you cut off your horns in shame?”

He’d been seated, but he stood, trying in vain to appear in control.  His white robes were filthy, he moved gingerly with broken ribs and bruises, and he’d already grown much thinner.  He was miserable and pathetic.  But I wanted to see the fear in his eyes, I wanted him to know what exactly it was that had become his enemy.  I wanted to watch the horror dawn on him and leave him to rot.  Bryce would no doubt have him executed or made tranquil and for once I felt this mage deserved the latter.  I would see it inflicted on no one but him.  

“Qunari?”  He caught enough of the accent in my voice that his eyes widened, but that was hardly realization enough for this reunion.  “I have never been qunari.  You have no idea what I am, do you, pathetic mortal?”

He scowled and started to protest, but I spoke over him, “Magister Erimond, disgrace to the Tevinter Imperium, pathetic coward of a mage, and betrayer of the Old Gods, the one person for whom tranquility is a just punishment...”  He blanched.  

“...what?  T-tranquility?  You can’t be ser—”

“I am.  But I am not your judge.  You are beneath me.  Still, I wish you to know just what exactly stands before you.”  I whispered my name through the bars.  

He burst out laughing, repeating it scoffingly.  “Really?  You think I am so stupid that I would believe—?”

I growled and spread my wings, letting my magic dim the torches until the whole room was left pitch black.  My eyes cast a red glow over us both, the only remaining light source.  Their shine illuminated my horns as I grew them again and shifted my entire body into an ebony draconic form, almost as small as a man, but evident in its resemblance.  

Erimond paled and I laughed, snaking my slender neck forward to slip my toothy snout between the bars.  The cell was so small that my beak brushed his greasy bangs as I spoke and the heat of my breath made him sweat.  “Consider this a warning.  Your master will fail.  I work against him quite actively, aiding the Inquisition.  If you are granted mercy, do not scorn it, or you will answer to me.”  

I became human again and slunk away, leaving the terrified ex-magister in a cell that would remain dark until dawn.  

*       *Dorian*       *

With Bryce and the army away, things almost became downright dull at Skyhold.  Oh, I would read, and drink, and obviously Qy himself was around, but it was still rather quiet with practically everyone gone.  

I like to think that, if I hadn’t been so bored, I would never have resorted to asking Qy why he was suddenly eating.  It was odd.  I mean, he wasn’t just eating normally, he was almost constantly snacking.  Normally, I would see him eat maybe a turnip, or an apple about once a week, maybe twice.  Now he had food on hand every waking minute that we weren’t actively having sex.  On one particularly outrageous day when I found him perched on a balcony overlooking the snow-covered garden with three whole roast chickens, an apple, and two meat pies.  This was excluding the loaf of bread he had just finished off when I arrived.  

I had to marvel at the sheer quantity.  “Are you going to hibernate or something?”

He snorted into the first, rapidly vanishing, chicken.  “Just hungry.  Very hungry.”

I chuckled and ran a hand along his hip.  “What?  Has the sex just been that strenuous?”

He laughed and leaned back to kiss me before returning to his meal.  He swallowed the last of that first chicken and sighed.  “Honestly?  I don’t know why I’m so hungry all of a sudden.  I don’t normally need to eat more than once or twice a month.”

A _month_?  Well, I guess being possessed and basically immortal...  He was worried about it.  I could tell and it worried me to see that.  “Have you asked the spirit possessing you about it?”

He nodded, finishing the second chicken in a matter of seconds.  It would have been nauseating to watch him eat if he didn’t have this oddly elegant way of doing it.  I mean, he was putting away more than a small army in one sitting, but he didn’t make a mess, or talk with his mouth full, or even really get his face dirty.  His hands, granted, were coated in grease and spices almost immediately, but all things considered, he was about as clean as possible given the way he was devouring his meal.  And he licked the chicken bones, particularly the leg bones.  I think he was doing that because I was there, actually.  

“The spirit says it’s normal, but won’t tell me anything more.  I know he knows more than he’s saying, but can’t get it out of him.  There’s something else on his mind, I’m not sure what.  I think he’s thinking about how to stop Corypheus as well, which may or may not be the same worry.”

I sighed as he wolfed down the last chicken and the apple before starting into the pies.  “I’m...worried about that as well, Qy.  You’ve lived seven hundred years, do you think we’ll manage to stop him?”

He sighed, finishing off the last pie and turning to face me as he licked his forearms clean.  I shook my head.  “You know, there are these things called napkins, it really might be time you got acquainted with them.”

He smirked.  “You have one on your person, do you?”

“No, but I’m sure we can get your _arms_ cleaned at my quarters.  You realize we’re practically outside my room, right?  You know, _most_ people only get greasy fingers when they eat.”

“Most people don’t eat eleven chickens in a sitting.”  He followed me to my room.  

“ _Eleven_?”  I shook my head, getting a towel and some water.  “You know small nations eat less, I’m amazed you aren’t enormous by now.”  

He chuckled and washed his arms and face.  “I used to drink thirty tankards of ale each night.”

“Now _that_ is truly surprising.  And yet you had never been drunk before?”

“Adamant.  Something about the Fade.  It changed a lot about me.”

I stepped towards him.  “Hopefully not too much.”

*       *Qyvetiq*       *

After that, things progressed as one might expect them to.  A few hours later, I lay naked beside him, one wing beneath us and one half-covering my chest.  I was still ravenously hungry, but I let it go for now, preferring to lie here with him at least for a little while.  

I knew there was something on his mind before he had the chance to find something to criticize, so I asked him, “What are you thinking about?”

“I’ve been thinking I should go back to Tevinter.  Nothing will change unless someone tries to fix it and I can’t very well complain if I do nothing about it.”

I nodded.  “It will take someone working very hard at it to get things changed.”  I considered him.  “You could do that.  I’ve seen a lot of change, most of it bad, but you might be able to make things better there.”  

He looked over at me a bit sadly.  “Would you be...  What are you planning to do, if we survive this?”

I hadn’t really thought about it.  I shrugged.  “Ideally, stay with you, I suppose.”

He hesitated.  “I...I want you to understand; this is something I want to do myself, I don’t want you, or Bryce, or anyone else doing this for me...”

I calmly met his gaze.  “Dorian, I hardly wanted to get involved in the fight against Corypheus, do you really think I’m going to take over this...paradigm shift?”

He grinned a little.  “About that...why are you so reluctant to take sides?  If Corypheus wins—”

“I’ve lived seven hundred years, Dorian.  I learned long ago to stop taking sides in everything.  I’ve made mistakes.  I’m...I’m more powerful than anyone really should be and one man shouldn’t shape history on his own.  I try to stay out of it whenever I can.”

“And yet you fought in the Fifth Blight at the side of the Hero of Fereldan?”

“I said I try to stay neutral,” I grinned at him, “I didn’t say I was good at it.  I’ll be by your side in Tevinter, when you go back to change things, and I’ll protect you, but I won’t fight your battles for you.”

He smiled back.  “You’d better not!”

We kissed and he snuggled up against my chest, letting me wrap my wings around him.  

“Do you think we’re going to survive this?”

I’d been almost hoping he’d forgotten that question.  I sighed.  “I know we’ll survive it.  Dorian, I have...a way that I might be able to deal with Corypheus’ dragon.  I’ve slain dragons before, but this is different.  That thing is tougher than a normal dragon, but there’s something the spirit inside me thinks he can do to help.”  He waited for an explanation I didn’t offer.  I knew he wanted one and expected him to ask, but he didn’t.  

“As long as you’re sure about it...  Should I tell B...the others, when they get back?”

“Yes.  I’ll come with you to tell them, I think they trust you more than me.”

“Marginally.”

“Even so.”  I kissed him.  He trusted me, enough not to ask for a further explanation of my plan.  That was almost...unnerving.  I wasn’t used to it.  I wasn’t sure I could think of almost anyone who really trusted me in my entire life.  And that would make it so much worse if I let him down.  


	28. Preparations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very short chapter, but I didn't want to flow straight into the fight with Corypheus. The next few chapters might be equally quick to write. I've gotten to the point with this where I'm afraid I won't finish it if I work on anything else, but I really really want to go back to writing Some Other World. Hopefully I can finish this before that feeling goes away.

Coming back from the Arbor Wilds, I was more convinced than ever that we were doomed.  A deranged elf had destroyed the thing Corypheus was looking for, we had no idea where the maniacal magister had flown off to now, and I was stuck traveling around with both mage bitches, and they were both mad at me.  We rode back in carriages to save time and I was grateful to join Blackwall and Varric who were both almost as relieved as I was to be away from Morrigan and Vivienne.  

Even so, an air of fear hung heavily over our group as we came back to Skyhold.  We convened a war council meeting almost immediately and everyone was surprised to have it interrupted just as we came to the conclusion that we had no idea what to do next.  Morrigan, of course, was about to yell at me for failing to stop the crazy elf earlier, but she froze as Dorian and Kai opened the door.  

“Qy claims that the spirit possessing him has some way of killing Corypheus’ dragon.” Dorian announced to the stunned silence of the room.  

Morrigan was the first to verbally doubt.  “And what exactly does this spirit plan to do?”

Kai met her gaze, but slid his hands into his pockets a bit awkwardly.  “I’d rather not say, but he believes that it will work.”

Morrigan narrowed her eyes.  “I fail to see why we should trust a possessed apostate who won’t even tell us what his plan involves.”

“We can trust him.”  I can tell that no one expected me to vouch for Kai except perhaps Morrigan, who didn’t really know me.  Everyone turned their stares on me and then accepted my word.  The spirit had probably been referring to this in part of that whole speech he’d given me at the Winter Palace, but it had been a lot to take in, and I hadn’t really understood what he meant that first time.  Now I think I got it a bit better.  I didn’t want to trust the spirit, but I did, and right now we didn’t really have a better option.  We had to trust that he could do this.  

Morrigan was having none of it.  “All of you?  You’re going to trust an openly possessed apostate to slay a highly magical dragon by a method he won’t even hint at, and you wouldn’t trust me _at all_?”

I was really getting less fond of this woman with every word she said.  “Yes.  _You_ haven’t saved my life multiple times.  I trust Kai.”

“I cooperated with you at the Winter Palace, when I didn’t even know you—!”

The spirit possessing Kai cut her off, “And had you chosen to work against him, the result would have been the same.  I know you well enough that I would back his decision to distrust you even if Leliana would not.  I _can_ handle the dragon, trust me on that.  You will see how soon enough.”

Morrigan started to protest, but again was cut off, this time by Josephine.  “We do still need to determine exactly where Corypheus will...”

She fell silent as Skyhold shook around us.  A deafening roar rent the air.  

I looked out the window, squinting as the sky exploded with green light.  “Something tells me we won’t need to go looking for Corypheus.”


	29. Nightfall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel really awkward about writing things that happen in game...I think I need to find some better work around for them, or does sort of summarizing and time-skipping work alright? What do you think?

*       *Dorian*       *

Within an hour, we were facing down the magister.  Of course, after much arrogant gloating, he called his dragon down to kill us all.  

I glanced back at Qy, who stood quite calmly watching it approach, his unusual staff still strapped to his back.  “Qy?  Now would be a good time for whatever you have planned to stop that dragon!”  

The beast banked leisurely, taking its time to get to us.  It probably did that out of arrogance, assuming it had sentient thought at all, but it was convenient for us.  Qy nodded in answer to my question and closed his eyes.  His wings flexed a little on his back but for several terrifying seconds nothing seemed to happen.  Corypheus caught on that we had something planned and stared at Qy.  I could practically see the frustrated confusion in his deranged mind, which would have been much more entertaining if I hadn’t been just as nervous about Qy’s undisclosed plan.  If I didn’t trust the man so completely...

The green-lit evening sky suddenly became dark as night fell prematurely.  The dusk drew our gazes skyward even in a glance and during that time, Qy erupted behind us.  

Turning back, we saw something enormous standing in Qy’s place.  It was almost a dragon, except that this creature radiated power.  The thing’s body was pitch black, trailing wisps of living shadow, but the wings were unmistakably Qy’s own.  Larger, yes, but defiantly his.  I was about to consider my theory proven true, impossibly enough, when Corypheus shouted at him.  

“You think an illusion of Lusacan is going to frighten me?”

Okay, it was an illusion.  That made sense.  I’d already seen his skill with illusions in the Hinterlands, so I suppose a spell could be responsible.  Even if he _was_ possessed by Lusacan, he couldn’t actually turn into the Old God, right?  

The colossal black dragon completely ignored Corypheus, taking off towards his dragon with enough force that all of us nearly fell over.  In the cloud of dust left behind as he shot into the air, Bryce charged towards Corypheus.  This was hardly the first time that the Inquisitor had rushed into a fight a bit earlier than I’d expected, but at least this time he wasn’t starting one without warning.  I lost track of Qy to focus on the more immediate threat of the insane magister.  

*      *???*      *

I doubt that any of the Inquisition noticed me, perched on the edge of a ruined stone wall.  If the grayish green clothing of an Inquisition spy did anything, it certainly helped me camouflage.  The ancient magister was no concern of mine, as curious as I was to know if the legend about him having entered the Golden City was really true.  I did not believe that he could tell me anyway; what I felt of his memories were too faded, too confused.  I was here for a different purpose.  

My brother was flying.  I did not know how he had managed to appear as Lusacan, nor did I understand exactly why he was bothering to aid these people.  I could feel the rift pulling at the Fade, tearing at the fabric of my being and I had to wonder why he not only seemed unfazed but much more powerful than when I had seen him before.  Interesting.  I had noticed that he seemed to have gain access to his abilities since our brief encounter several months ago, if I could learn how he had done this...  Better yet, if I could do the same...  I was not so naive as to think he would tell me willingly, or to think he would leave willingly, or willingly aid my own goals.  Luckily, if I was careful, he did not need to be willing.  

I wondered if he realized the power of the creature that he fought.  It was no archdemon, but nor was it merely a dragon.  He proved much stronger than I had expected just by facing it in his current form and surviving for more than an instant.  He fought the beast almost to a draw, banking and swooping as they ripped each other’s hides with claws and fangs.  They managed to be almost equals in combat and I watched the fight in silent admiration.  

But my brother often misjudged his own limits.  I watched him ascend, powering high above the false Archdemon with frantic thrusts of his quickly-tiring wings.  Like a diving gannet, he’d flipped in the air and shot towards his foe, striking him with enough force to crumple the enemy’s wings.  My brother rode him to the ground, smashing the blighted monstrosity against the stone, but he was weakened now.  And the magister’s dragon was not dead.  It staggered upright as my brother rolled off of it, shrinking back to his humanoid form.  He had changed that recently as well, now he almost passed for a human, except for his wings.  The spindly bones were broken, they hung half-crumpled from his back and blood soaked his fine robes.  I could feel his consciousness fading fast, but still he rose to snarl at his enemy, staring down the blighted dragon with comical bravery.  

The dragon smacked him, claws tearing deep wounds in his chest before it crawled over him, struggling to serve its master even as its own life faded.  It would not last much longer either, I knew that even without seeing the Inquisitor and his companions starting to charge the creature.  A simple spell ensured that they would not notice me.  

I had to heal my brother.  After that, he would be utterly at my mercy.  


	30. The Truth

*       *Bryce*       *

We were back at Skyhold before I realized that Kai was gone.  Somehow, impossibly, we’d managed to survive and it was idiotic to think that it wasn’t thanks to Kai’s crazy illusion.  Maybe magic did have its uses.  Sometimes.  In the right hands.  I wondered if the eccentric man had just gone off on his own again.  He’d probably reappear as soon as we were all certain he was dead again.  That was a really unhelpful habit.  But under that assumption, I wasn’t worried.  

Kai wasn’t the only missing person, Cassandra had remarked that Solas was gone as we were heading back or I wouldn’t have noticed the apostate’s absence.  He’d probably just gotten sick of me anyway.  Neither disappearance seemed strange to me and I enjoyed the celebration as best as I could.  It was a good party, even if it reminded me how much everyone expected of me and even if I spent half of it contemplating how best to manage my own vanishing act.  

When things started to die down, I slunk away to my quarters.  I was on the balcony when Dorian joined me.  

“Did he say anything to you?  That he was planning to leave?”

I frowned at him.  “Kai?  Did you know he was leaving?”

He shook his head and walked over to me.  “No.”  He was worried, I noticed that now that he was closer to me.  “That’s what concerns me.  There’s no reason for him to vanish this time.”

“And there’s been reason before?”

He bobbled his head as Kai so often did.  “To some degree, at least.  At Adamant, he seemed to be trying to get us together, before that was probably the same thing, but now...  I can’t thing of a reason for him to leave without saying anything...”  He gave me that puppy-dog look he got when he was worried or sad.  Damn, the man could still melt my heart even when he didn’t seem to be trying to.  

“You’re worried about him?  This is Kai, the man’s practically come back from the dead, he’s fine...where ever he is.”  I don’t think I was as convincing as I had hoped.  “Why are you talking to me about this, anyway?”

He sighed.  “And who else would I talk to about it?  I’m hardly...pleased with what happened between us, but I’m afraid that something might have happened to Qy and you’re my best chance of getting help to find that out.”

“What makes you think that something’s wrong?  Just that he has no reason to disappear?”  I didn’t really believe he was safe either, now that I thought about it, but it was hard to imagine him injured.  And I didn’t want to believe that he was injured, or worse.  

“His sister took him north.”

The speaker was not Dorian but Cole, who had appeared behind us without the slightest sound or warning.  Did he have to give me a heart attack?  Really, why did spirits so delight in terrifying people one way or another?

Dorian was no less startled.  “Cole!  What are you doing here?”  From his tone I got the sense that he was more bothered by having the spirit barging in at random than just startled by his presence.  I guess I understood that; if he just showed up like this, he could easily walk in on far more...intimate situations, and somehow the thought of the boy seeing that just disturbed me, even if I wasn’t involved.  

“His sister took him north, she was here for a long time before now.  She wore a grey hood and took the memories of people who saw her so they wouldn’t know she was here.  You both saw her but don’t remember.”  He looked squarely at me beneath the brim of his huge floppy hat.  “She turned your mind so that you would help her, but you don’t remember that either.  I can make you remember, but it won’t change anything.  It might be better if you don’t.”  

“Eeh...better not.”  I didn’t need any more crazy.  “This is Kai’s sister you’re talking about?  She kidnapped him?”

“She waited until he fell down.  She cast a spell so no one would see her and healed him.  Then she took him back home.  But it hasn’t really been home for a long time.”

“She took him home?  Do you mean back to Tevinter?”Dorian interjected.  

I gaped.  “Kai’s from Tevinter?”

“You expected him to tell you?  After all your acrimony towards me?”

“Well I didn’t expect him to hide it—!”

*       *Dorian*       *

I sighed.  This was hardly helpful.  We could go on like this all day and it would just devolve into another fight, meanwhile Qy was in trouble.  I ignored Bryce, “Cole, what is Qy?  Beyond possessed.  What is the nature of the spirit possessing him?  How did he cast that illusion and fight Corypheus’ dragon with it?”

Cole seemed almost confused.  “He didn’t cast an illusion.  The spirit changed his body until he was almost the way it used to be.”

Bryce, dense as always, frowned.  “So...what?  It’s really a dragon?”

Cole shook his head.  “It’s not a dragon.”

“Cole,” I snapped, “What is the spirit?  Tell me its name, its nature, anything.  What is it?”

Cole hesitated.  “Qy told me not to tell that.  They think it will scare people and it will.  He’s very dangerous, but he knows it, so he tries to be careful.  That’s why he hides in the mountains and cities.  He pretends to be normal so he won’t hurt anyone again, but it’s hard and he wants to change things.”

To my great surprise, Bryce manage to put his anger aside and backed me up.  “Cole, this is very important.  Please tell us.”

He hesitated and then nodded.  “He says it’s alright.  I can tell you now.  One of you already knows, but is afraid to believe.”  I _really_ didn’t like the sound of that.  

“Wait, so you can talk to him?  Right now?”  Bryce asked, but I was wondering the same thing, though I was more worried about the true nature of the spirit possessing Qy.  

Cole shook his head.  “You mean Qy.  No, his heart is close, but it’s still.  He’s...asleep.  He’ll wake up soon, but I can’t talk to him now.  The spirit is more powerful, though, so I can hear him from very far away.  He says I can tell you what he is, and he wants you to know, but he also wants you to help Qy.”

“Yes, but what _is_ the spirit?”

“He wants you to know that the name is wrong.  What they call him.  They say he’s a god, but he doesn’t think he is.  He isn’t sure, but he thinks he’s just a very powerful spirit.  He _is_ Lusacan.”

Well, there was the first heart-stopping revelation of the evening.  Yes, as it turned out Cole would tell us something even more shocking than revealing that my current lover was possessed by an Old God.  Nothing is ever normal in the Inquisition, this is why I stopped taking bets with Varric.  

Bryce sat down heavily on the railing and I was too bowled over by the dawning acceptance of Qy being possessed by Lusacan to be terrified by the Inquisitor precariously perched over a huge drop.  

For a long moment, the two of us stared in shock as Cole seemed to zone out and then Bryce asked suddenly, “Cole.  The spirit— Lusacan— said something to me earlier.  He said that he could separate from Kai now, if he wanted to, but before that, Kai implied that the...Lusacan was the only thing keeping him alive.”  He paused, but Cole didn’t notice the question that implied, so he asked more bluntly, “Would Kai survive if Lusacan parted from him?  How would that even work?”

Cole looked puzzled.  “Qy is strong enough now.  Lusacan thinks that he could survive and I think so as well.  Lusacan might be able to take form like I can, but he would probably need to go back to the Fade, or find his body.”

“Wait,” I frowned, “how is it exactly that Lusacan couldn’t separate from Qy until now?  Was this just because he knew that Qy would have died before?”

Cole shook his head.  “Before they were blended together, their spirits had been in one body for so long that the edges blurred.  They were almost the same.  Neither could tell where they met and it was hard for them to remember.  It’s still hard for Qy to remember, but Lusacan can.  Now they are two people in one body, but not like the little ones inside of him.”

Bryce and I had barely begun to accept that Qy carried the spirit of an Old God, but now we stared at Cole in suspicion.  

“...What?”

Before Cole could answer my incredulous gasp, Bryce clarified.  “Whoa, whoa, whoa.  You make it sound like he’s pregnant.  What do you mean?”

“He has two tiny persons inside of him, like the serving girl with the yellow hair.”

Bryce stared blankly.  “Wait, you mean the girl...”  It took me a moment to remember that serving girl.  The serving girl who had had twins just a few weeks ago.  Shit.  

Cole frowned.  “It’s happy news.  Why aren’t you happy?”

Bryce and I exchanged a long stare before looking back at the boy spirit.  “Cole, Kai’s a man...”

“Yes.”

“How did—?”  Okay, that was the wrong choice of words, I knew how this had happened in any case.  “Cole.  Why didn’t Qy tell us this was possible?”

“Because it wasn’t possible before.  He doesn’t know it’s possible now.  It’s like a surprise, almost.”  

I stared at him.  “Cole, this is _not_ a good surprise.”

Cole frowned.  “Why not?”

Bryce and I answered in unison.  “Because he’s a _man_!”

“Why does that matter?  The cooper was happy when the serving girl found out.”  

“Cole,”I realized aloud, “I don’t think you quite understand—”

I was interrupted as Bryce realized aloud, “Wait...Kai doesn’t know?”

“Well,” I answered him, “ _he’s going to find out_.”  And that would probably not be a pleasant discovery, especially as he was kidnapped by his apparently insane sister and probably halfway to Tevinter by now.  Was this a good day?  I couldn’t tell anymore.  

Cole frowned at us, completely baffled.  “But it’s _happy._   Why aren’t you happy?”

Bryce sighed.  “We need to talk to Bull...”


	31. The Plan

When I came to, I smelled the sea.  No, not quite.  It was more than that.  I smelled home.  

I opened my eyes.  My wings lay folded beneath me on the ancient stone bench that had always rested in our garden, beside the lily pond.  Sitting up, I found that the pond had become a pool of green sludge.  Ivy had overtaken both the garden and the castle’s stone walls, as well as the legs of the ancient bench itself.  As a small child, I had planted a seed behind the bench and the dead husk of a withered tree towered behind me, bone white.  The castle lay in ruins.  Looking westward, towards the city silhouetted in the distance, I saw only grass and fallen stone beyond the archway that had once led to the main hall.  I had grown up here, almost seven hundred years ago.  If ghosts existed, I wondered if my father still haunted the ruins of the mansion he had burnt down so long ago.  What _would_ he think of me now?  I smirked at the thought.  Surely nothing good.  

I was alive, but everything ached.  I had hardly felt worse when I’d been hung over, but the spirit was at full strength.  Lusacan had his magic replenished after overexerting himself against the dragon.  How long had I been unconscious?  How had I been brought here?  Surely this was not Dorian’s doing?

Movement behind me made me turn and I found a very familiar woman watching me from the shade of a ruined tower.  Her silvery white hair curtained a coldly beautiful face.  Her crimson eyes dimmed to almost white as she looked at me.  

“Hello, Raz.”  I tried to sound amicable, but I was actually terrified.  I couldn’t read her.  I could guess that she had been toe one to bring me here, but beyond that I had no clue what she was after.  She might simply wish to see me, as we were each other’s only living relatives.  Both of us were each other’s only living relatives; Lusacan and Razikale and Qyvetiq and Sylvanus.  In essence, we were the same.  The Old Gods were basically siblings, if not actually siblings, and they possessed us in almost identical ways, although Lusacan now possessed me more naturally after we had entered the Fade.  Razikale remained bound to the half-elven body of my half-sister, the product of my father’s union and experiments on an elven slave.  I had never understood my sister in the slightest; she could have brought me here for anything from a friendly reunion to an elaborate murder.  I think she liked keeping me in suspense.  

“Hello, Lucy, good to see you’re finally awake.”

The nickname made me scowl.  “Why have you brought me here?  Is this an illusion?”

She laughed.  “You think I have the skill to fool your senses?  Idiot, our illusions have never worked on one another.  I have brought you here to talk.  I have a proposition for you.”

“I’m listening.”

She grinned, slinking closer, stalking along the mossy stones at the edge of the pond.  “We are the last, you and I.  Lusacan and Razikale.  Night and Mystery.  The darkspawn will be coming for us soon enough, if they are not already.  It is only a matter of time.”

“They’ll come for our bodies, not our spirits.”  It was Lusacan who spoke.  I could feel that he was right, but I could also feel that this had been his worry.  That nagging thought on his mind for all these weeks, this had been it.  He was afraid that his body would become an archdemon, and he did not know what would happen if it did.  He feared it would end him, end us, but more that it would begin another Blight.  He’d seen too many Blights to look forward to something so horrible, and with the Grey Wardens gone...this could be another as bad as the first Blight, if not worse.  There were two Old Gods left.  What would happen if Razikale became corrupted while Lusacan was still a living Archdemon?  Lusacan feared that possibility more than anything else.  It was believed that he brought the end, and sometimes that was true, but he always regretted it.  He did not wish to bring death, especially not as an Archdemon, it was his deepest and strongest fear, it had always been.  

“It hardly matters which they corrupt, either will doom us.”  She circled me slowly and Lusacan, in control of my body, but leaving me aware of what was happening, turned to keep her in sight.  “I propose an alliance.  We join forces, find the last Grey Wardens, learn the locations of our bodies, and return to them.”

The plan enticed him.  He tried to hide that and failed and it scared me.  He could leave my body now, I realized, he had known since Adamant, but kept it secret.  He wasn’t sure if he wanted to leave yet or not.  He wasn’t positive about what would happen to me.  I couldn’t imagine life without Lusacan.  Even being aware of him as a separate being had taken weeks to accept and I still wasn’t used to it; even if my body survived parting from him, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to handle it.  

Lusacan wanted very badly to accept, blindly.  He would have done almost anything to have his own body back, to be able to actively flee the darkspawn, whatever else he did with that power.  He felt trapped, in a way, although his spirit was free, his body was imprisoned dangerously close to the horde that terrified him.  He wanted to accept her offer, but he knew there had to be more to it.  “And what would we do once we regain our true forms?  What would become of our human selves?”

She scoffed.  “Our `human selves’?  Brother, you can’t possibly be referring to our hosts, can you?  What becomes of them is of no significance at all.  Perhaps they will die.  I do not know or care.”  I felt his rage, but he held it back, kept it hidden from her as he waited for the rest of her response.  

“As for what we will do, isn’t it obvious?  In seven-hundred years, Tevinter has fallen far.  We will restore it to the glory it knew before the first Blight, except we will not allow it to fall again.  We will reign, side by side, if you wish, as the gods of a new world.”

Lusacan snorted.  “Have you been spending time with Corypheus?  I’m surprised you didn’t aid him, it sounds like you would have been great friends.”

In an instant, he placid facade became a storm of rage and her eyes burned crimson again.  “The magister was insane and unworthy.  He sought to usurp the Old Gods and mocked them with his false-Archdemon.  The man was scum, unworthy of treading the world we walk on, how could you even joke that I would ally with him?”  The anger faded just as quickly and she appeared calm again.  She stood before me now, eyeing me cooly, her gaze almost silver again.  “His goal, however, was admirable, unlike his methods and plan.  We could succeed where he failed.  Do you wish to see Tevinter remain a shell of its rightful glory?  Beleaguered by beast-men from the north, demonized by the southern nations, and stunted by its own refusal to see the truth?”

“Yes, Tevinter needs to change, but taking it over and ruling as gods is _not_ the answer.”

The anger did not return, but her gaze hardened very slightly.  I noticed it before Lusacan.  He didn’t have a chance to react.  “Then our business here is done.  I’m afraid I can’t allow you to stop me, brother.”  She waved her hand and the stone around us erupted in white wind, ice, electricity, and flame.  It was a storm as I had seen only once before.  

*       *Lusacan*       *

The first bolts struck as the cold and flame tore at my body.  I felt Qyvetiq fade to unconsciousness within the first instant.  My will and magic kept me alive to craft an illusion.  In the swirling storm, I focused, shaping a solid effigy of my own human body as a corpse and at the same time willing my skin and clothes to fade from sight.  The storm ate away in that time and I felt the strength of my human body failing.  My spirit would live if it died, I realized, but I would not let that happen.  I channeled healing energy into myself, struggling to keep both illusions in place while I waited for Razikale’s storm to pass.  After agonizing minutes, it dissipated.  If fear had not held me in place while she went to check the body, my own exhaustion would have.  

I did not expect the illusion to fool her.  We were equals, were we not, Old Gods within the bodies of immortal humans?  I was not even immortal any more, she could kill me if she only chance to hear my heartbeat behind her, to see through my thin veil of camouflage in the ivy and brambles.  I held my breath, waiting.  Razikale felt the corpse for a pulse.  A few seconds later, she cast a spell.  A binding.  If I remained within Qy’s corpse, I would not have been able to possess it.  Somehow my illusion fooled her.  

Razikale spun, her gray cotton dress stirring the ivy just inches from where I lay, willing every particle of my being to silence and stillness and to stay invisible.  Impossibly, my sister turned and left.  I waited for over an hour before I could maintain the spell no longer and dared to move.  By now sun had set.  Only adrenaline had even kept me conscious; my body was weak and stiff, almost dying.  I sent gentle waves of magic through my flesh, sensing and noting every injury.  I lacked the strength to heal, but I would live for now.  I knew Qy was pregnant, another major concern, but to my relief, they were fine as well.  They had fared better, shielded by his body around them.  His strength was still failing.  He needed a healer.  He would not die immediately, but he did need one.  The burns he had suffered would fester, if left untreated, and he could not survive alone and unconscious in the wilds.  Even if qunari did not find him, animals would.  Maybe wild dogs, maybe lions, maybe dragons, I did not know and it did not matter.  He needed shelter.  I was not sure how long I could keep his body moving.  

I forced his stiff legs to stand and carry me west, a trudging, aching walk along the cliffs that overlooked the sea.  I had walked this overgrown and ancient path so many times in this body’s youth.  It would be a great and terrible irony if Qyvetiq died here.  


	32. A Funny Kind of Second Chance

*       *???*       *

The sea wind rushed across the cliff tops, bowing the tall grass and washing the air with the scent of fish and salt.  I hardly smelled it any more.  In the sandy soil here, the trees grew short and almost withered, misshapen husks of dry grey bark that rustled whispering in the evening breeze.  Magic might have had something to do with that, or maybe it was the Blight, there was no real way to know.  The tan and black sand and pebbles shifted slightly beneath my feet.  This cliffside path was probably ancient, but I used to walk it so often that this section stayed wide and clear.  I didn’t come up here very much any more, but my feet trod the old course easily even after the setting sun no longer showed me where gnarled roots disturbed the loose dry dirt.  Now grass encroached on the path until sometimes I could only find it by memory.  The few spots where the fine scree gave way to stones and seasonal creeks cascaded off the cliffs into the sea had been carpeted with moss.  

I wondered idly if things might have been different if I had walked up here with him more often.  Probably not.  

The sun had almost sunk beneath the point where the ocean met the horizon, coloring the waves in a spectrum of golds and pinks as I reached the bench where we’d used to sit and talk.  The path had been here for centuries, as had the look out point where we’d sat, but the bench that had once stood here had crumbled with age well before my father had found it and we’d replaced it with a newer stone bench carved in a mimicry of the ancient style.  My father had taken me here to talk sometimes as well, and I had continued that with my own son long after he had died.  I suppose that tradition that ended now.  

Moss had started to grow on the cold stone and I picked it off, sitting down for a few minutes.  Coming out here was pointless, it just brought back painful memories.  I’d made a mistake and he was gone.  I’d tried to make amends, but it was too late.  I’d lost him, and maybe I deserved that for what I’d almost done.  There was nothing I regretted more deeply and probably nothing that I would ever regret more deeply.  I’d journeyed almost completely across Thedas to try to talk to him, and I would do it again if that could have fixed things between us or even started to.  

Ironic, I suppose, that I had thought that now.  

The path continued to the East, not merely as a worn line of dirt but as a cobblestone road, narrow and overgrown, but paved.  The lookout point was also paved, though the ancient stone was more slick with wear.  It had always been there, but I hardly remembered it.  After all, there was nothing down that path except the old ruins of Archon Lucian’s mansion.  I’d gone there once as a small boy and I suspect that my son had done the same.  The place held interest only for boys and maybe artists, but no one else.  Anything valuable or useful had crumbled to dust long ago.  

With nothing else to the East, I only glanced in that direction as I turned to leave, and even then it was only to see the walls of the ruins lit gold and black by the sun’s last rays for the day.  The light struck a shape on the overgrown path, half-hidden by the grass.  Looking at it more closely, I recognized a strange man in a set of fine black robes.  I went to help him even before I drew the obvious conclusion that he was a noble.  

He was soaked in blood, badly burned over most of his body, but alive.  The wounds had clearly been inflicted by magic, but probably not his own, given the sheer extent of the damage.  I didn’t recognize him, so he was clearly no magister, but the quality of his robes suggested an altus.  If this stranger lived, I wanted to know whom I was sheltering, and if he died, I wanted to know whom to tell.  I checked his neck for a birthright, some means of identifying him, and found one.  Lucian.  I stared at the blood-soaked man lying on the stone before me, forgetting for a second the urgency of his situation.  How was this possible?

*       *Lusacan*       *

I knew that Qy would be safe once I sensed the man moving to help him.  I saw the truth of him easily; by sheer luck, my timing had been perfect.  The man had been thinking of his guilt, and both Qyvetiq’s rank and his age would remind him of his son.  He would aid the half-elf that I had been a part of for all these years even more adamantly due to that guilt, and he had more than enough healers at his disposal to keep Qy safe and comfortable.  My friend would be safe now.  

As the magister called for help and struggled to pull Qy towards his home, I left Qy’s body.  I flew south, a barely visible shadow on the wind, planning to seek a host only if I had to.  My sister must be stopped.  


	33. Back in the Tavern

*       *Bryce*       *

I have always hated bureaucracy and that feeling had never been stronger than it was during those weeks after Kai disappeared.  Cole’s claim that he had been taken home to Tevinter drove roughly half the core members of the Inquisition to desperately seek any way of getting us north to help him.  Unfortunately, as Josephine explained, now that Corypheus was gone, not only was there a great deal to do to settle the Inquisition into a more permanent state, but many of our connections would no longer bend over backwards to help us.  Our resources were more limited.  The four weeks since Kai had gone missing had been spent alternately scrambling for any funds we could manage to get our hands on, desperately negotiating with nobles and ship’s captains to try and barter passage north, and getting incredibly drunk.  

After this last, particularly long and difficult day getting nowhere, Dorian and I joined each other at the tavern.  Bull tended to drink with the Chargers and he’d been surprisingly sober the past few days and so busy that I hadn’t really seen much of him.  He wasn’t in the tavern right now.  When we’d told him about Kai’s pregnancy, he’d more or less shrugged it off.  He was shocked, of course, but then he just shrugged and said that he was surprised Qy hadn’t told him that was possible.  I told him that Kai had strongly implied to me that it _wasn’t_ possible and Dorian admitted when we both looked at him that he simply hadn’t thought to ask.  

I don’t know about Bull, but for both myself and Dorian, Kai’s pregnancy had been second only to Kai’s safety in topics that were constantly on our minds.  It didn’t surprise me that tonight, Dorian decided to bring that up as we sat there drinking.  

“This is ridiculous.”  He made an ambiguous sound halfway between a laugh and a sigh.

I downed half my drink and looked at him.  “Do you mean how difficult it apparently is to get to Tevinter, or the fact that either of us might possibly become fathers?”

“Both.”  He took a gulp of ale and considered me.  “How are you faring, by the way?”

I shrugged.  “On the former issue, frustrated.  On the latter?  ...honestly?  I’m not sure.  I never expected it, to say the very least...”

He laughed.  “ _You_ never expected it?  From what I heard, you at least had some interest in women.  I mean, obviously Qy was...different, but surely fatherhood was a little less out-of-the-question for you, right?”

I snorted.  “I didn’t exactly expect it any time soon, Dorian.  Although I suppose things are a bit different for you.  It’s still a lot to think about.”

“To say the very least...”  He swallowed and downed his drink.  

We lapsed into silence for a few moments before I remarked, “At least it does seem like Kai didn’t know it was possible either...  I mean, Cole told us that, but I’m reluctant to think that Kai wouldn’t have mentioned it if he had known.”

“He said that a lot of things changed after Adamant.  ...It _is_ possible that...somehow...”

I looked at him, coming to the same realization from that statement that he seemed to have reached mid-sentance.  “If this only became possible because he went into the Fade, then...then you’re the only possibility.”

He gulped and nodded.  I’d hardly ever seen the man look more shaken and that was really saying something.  “Are you alright?”

He swallowed again.  “Not really.  I need another drink.”

“Damn right you need another drink.”  I ordered one as well and we had both finished those and gotten our tankards refilled again before I said anything else.  “You think Cole’s right?  That he is in Tevinter?”

He looked at me cynically.  “And we have some other lead to go on?”

“True enough.”

I took a long gulp of ale and as I brought the tankard back down, discovered that Cole had appeared in my field of vision.  Sitting on the bar infront of us, oblivious to the annoyed bartender behind him.  

“Qy is safe.”

Dorian sighed and set down his drink.  “Right.  How do you know this, again?  Can you...elaborate?”

“Lusacan told me.  They were north, in the garden, but the pond was green, it was all gone, all too old now.  It wasn’t the same.  She told him what she wanted, but they fought, there was pain.  She thinks he’s dead, but he’s alright.  They fooled her.  Lusacan made sure he was safe and came south.  He needs to stop her, she’s trying to do something very bad and he has to stop it.  He left Qy by the old bench where a man found him.  He knows the man, but Qy does not and the man does not know Qy.”

“`She’?”  Why wasn’t the boy ever clear?  “Is `she’ his sister?”

Cole nodded.  “Yes.”

“And she’s planning something?”

“Yes.  Something very bad.  She went to find her body, but so did he.”

“Their bodies...”  Dorian and I exchanged a horrified stare as we realized what that probably meant.  They were Old Gods.  They were trying to wake up, and not as Archdemons.  Hopefully not as Archdemons.  

“So they want to wake up?” Dorian asked, “And then what?”

“She wants to take over, make things the way they used to be, but...more.  She wants to rule as a god.”

I groaned.  “So Corypheus all over again.  Right.  What _is_ it with you people?  Does everyone in Tevinter secretly dream of becoming a god and restoring it to its former glory?”

Dorian sighed.  “Sometimes it really feels that way.  What does he want to do?  Can he stop her?”

“He wants to stop her, and he’s going to try, but he isn’t sure that he can.  She’s weaker than him now, but that could change.  If he can stop her, he wants to hide, to hide and help like I do, but not quite in the same ways.”

“If they’re waking the Old Gods,” I mused, “maybe the Grey Wardens can tell us where to find them?”

Dorian frowned at me.  “That would be a lot easier if you hadn’t exiled them.”  He meant it in fairly good humor, I could tell he was mostly glad that Kai was safe, according to Cole, but it still hurt.  I managed not to get angry.  

“We can contact Alistair.  I’m sure somebody can reach him.”

“And if he doesn’t know?”

That jogged my memory.  “Didn’t you see one on our way to Adamant? Which one did you see?”

“I’m not positive it was an Old God...and I was probably half delirious from pain and dehydration, but...I believe that was Lusacan.”

“The one inside Kai?”

He nodded.  “Yes.  Well, his body, at least.”  He still seemed a little bothered by the whole thing.  

“We’re dealing with Old Gods,” I shook my head, “I know.  It seems completely ridiculous.”

He downed another half a tankard of ale and sighed.  “And then there’s Qy...”  The mage looked up at Cole.  “Are you sure he’s safe?”

Cole nodded.  “Warm blankets, the smell of steeping tea on the ocean breeze, feels like home, but it’s not, and he’ll realize that when he wakes up.”

“...I’ll take that as a ‘yes’.”


	34. Of Hatred and Gratitude

The sea air and the nagging queasiness I was feeling almost led me to think that I was back on a ship as I dredged my mind from sleep.  The warm blankets and the scent of tea assured me otherwise.  Ships reeked of salt and sweat and booze, this was a house.  For one delirious second, I almost thought I was home, back in my father’s mansion seven hundred years ago, no doubt catching a nap when I was supposed to be studying and about to catch an earful from my step-mother.  

I opened my eyes to assure myself that this insane belief was false.  I found a grand chamber, most likely a living room, of sorts.  A tall domed ceiling loomed high above me, bearing an exquisite mural in a very Tevinter style.  What I could see of the walls were white and lined with bookshelves.  I lay on my back, aching and feeling ill, but wrapped in blankets on one of the most plush couches I have ever known.  This was definitely not my father’s house.  

But I did hear an argument.  Somewhere nearby a man and a woman shouted at each other.  

“...just bring a stranger into the house without telling me—!”

“He was dying, did you expect me to leave him—”

“I _expect_ you to have _some_ thought for our safety—”

“It isn’t as if I took in some filthy vagrant, he _is_ an altus, he _has_ a birthright—”

“Of a long dead house!  Surely it must have occurred to you that he might have simply taken it from the ruins of the Lucian manor—”

“Yes, but his attire suggests wealth, which such a birthright would indicate.  Now I’m certain that once he wakes up he can provide—”

I had really started to wonder if I should just close my eyes and pretend to be asleep again, but before I could do that, I guess the man noticed I was awake.  The argument stopped abruptly and I heard him approaching.  

“I found you on the old path by the cliffs and brought you here.  What happened?  Are you feeling alright?  Who are you?”

I knew he was familiar as soon as I saw him, but I was tired.  My stomach gnawed at itself, my head pounded, I ached all over, and I had known so very many people that I couldn’t place him.  But he was a noble.  I could at least determine that much for certain.  I strongly suspected that he was an altus if not a magister, so I tried to act more properly.  “I am Qyvetiq Regulus Aurelius Lucian.”  Somehow I doubted my elven heritage would have gone over well here, so I left out that name.  I hadn’t noticed Lusacan’s absence until now.  Now I tried to ask him what to do, why I felt so ill, but found only silence.  He was gone.  I had never known a single minute without him in my entire life.  Even when I was in control, I had always trusted that he would be there to guide me, protect me.  What did I do now?  Could I even handle myself without him?

Amid my thoughts and nausea, I barely heard or noticed as the man who had rescued me barked some order and called over an elf I hadn’t even seen.  The elf was likely a slave and I think the noble introduced himself as my pounding headache sent a throbbing ringing through my ears.  I caught that he was a magister, but nothing else.  The elf seemed to be a healer, or at least I hoped as much.  A healer slave, an elf who probably didn’t know that I was half-elf.  Why did that bother me now?  It never had before.  

The elf ran fingers across my forehead, gently probed my sides and abdomen, trying to figure out what was wrong with me when I suspected that I already knew.  I had never lived without Lusacan, but I sensed in his mind that I would have died without him, and having been born possessed thanks to my father’s experiments, it seemed logical to assume that my body was somehow unable to function properly on its own.  Knowing Lusacan as well as I thought I did, I’d like to think that he found some way to fix that before leaving me at all, but with how urgently his sister had to be stopped, I wasn’t sure.  

I might feel like this until he was back inside me.  The thought made me feel even more miserable.  

The elf had some kind of healing tonic and he was helping me drink it before I realized what I was doing.  The thing was flavored with so much mint that I could, miraculously enough, keep it down and the nausea abated almost immediately.  I still felt agonizingly hung-over, but the ringing in my ears faded and I found to my surprised relief that I could actually focus again.  

The magister seemed to realize this and repeated, “What _happened_ to you?”

I had remembered servants rushing about with inordinate speed, but the healer outdid even my hyperbolic recollection with how quickly he fetched me a mug of herbal tea.  It was some curative blend, I figured, judging both by the complex scent of the brew and by how quickly it dulled my pain and cleared my thoughts.  I drank a bit before I could answer.  “I was attacked.  My half-sister brought me up here to the old family mansion, in ruins now, of course.”  

She had to be stopped, didn’t she?  I wanted to stop her.  A world run by Razikale as a living, triumphant deity, was hardly a pleasant thought, but without Lusacan within me, there seemed to be little I could do.  Alone, that is.  I realized quite suddenly that I could go south, warn the Inquisition, contact what allies I had once there.  I couldn’t just sit here idly, knowing what was happening, I should do something.  Razikale would hardly be idle either, I considered, as dangerous as the Deep Roads were, she might not be able to face them alone, and if she needed more power...  There were two possibilities that I could foresee: either she realized how Lusacan had gained full access to his abilities and would seek out Bryce to enter the Fade and gain access to her own power, or she would try to force Lusacan to help her, and the only way to do that would be to hold his friends hostage.  That meant Bryce and Dorian could well be in danger.  I had to help them.  

How could I explain that?  

The magister saw my reaction to that realization, but before he could ask, I explained.  “She has this crazy plan...”  I shook my head.  “She wants to wake the Old Gods somehow; she’s insane.”  Both facts, but not as related as I implied.  “She wanted me and...my brother to help her, but we refused, so she attacked.”  Now my memory was somewhat lacking.  “I _think_ she thinks we’re dead, but I’m not positive.  At any rate, she left and my brother went after her.  I think she’s going to try to make my brother help her,” it was easier to explain that way than by going into the other possibility, “and I’m afraid that she’ll seek out our friends and hold them hostage in order to force my brother to work with her.  I strongly suspect that at least one of them will be killed should that occur.”   Had I always been such a good liar?  I’d always thought that was one of Lusacan’s traits.  

The magister considered me.  “I can send a messenger to warn these friends of yours, but you do not seem to be in any condition to travel.”  I nodded and he added.  “How exactly are you related to Archon Augustus Lucian?”

“He was my father.”  I gave the magister a moment for the shock and disbelief to spread across his face before explaining.  “I know that sounds absolutely insane, but the simple explanation is that I _was_ possessed.  Was.  I am no longer possessed, but I have lived over seven hundred years, I am a mage, and I am the only son of the Archon.”

He accepted that surprisingly well.  He nodded, although I knew he was thinking I must have gotten hit on the head at some point when I’d been attacked.  I finished that mug of tea.  “Thank you.  I don’t know what state I was in when you found me, but judging from how I’m feeling now, even with the potion and tea, you probably saved my life.”

He nodded.  “You are welcome.  Rest here.  I will see about getting you something to eat and then we can discuss sending some warning to your friends.”  I nodded back as he stood and left the room, no doubt to tell the servants to keep me here for my own safety.  He thought I was confused, maybe delusional thanks to a head injury.  I didn’t blame him.  My story was ridiculous at best.  It was a good thing I specialized in illusion magic; no amount of watchful eyes could keep me in any place I did not want to be.  

The elf made me comfortable and I slept.  I knew there was no time to lose, but even with the tea and medicine, I could hardly sit up.  I needed to heal myself, and to do that, whether by magic or by nature, I needed to rest.  Over the next three days I hardly moved from the couch.  Each day I attempted to stand and each day I failed miserably.  I recovered in inches, my strength rising pitifully each day as my headache faded.  My nausea remained, lessening only with the tea and when I ate.  When I tried to stand, the floor seemed to spin, and that just made it worse.  On the third day I found my magic was strong again.  The nausea remained, and my body was still covered in burns, but that could be fixed.  I channeled magic through my skin and scorched flesh, mending the burns and fried nerves.  Soon enough I could move, even if sitting up made my gut lurch and I felt exhausted.  My headaches came and went at random and I felt oddly heavy, but that was probably just how tired I was from the healing magic.  

Moving my legs to the side of the couch on that third day I’d been conscious, I managed to stand and keep my balance.  I had planned to test my illusion spells and try to set out south to warn Bryce and Dorian, but I no sooner got up than my host walked in.  Even recovering, I’d been exhausted the past few days— not that I wasn’t even now— the timing of my slumber had meant that I hadn’t actually seen the man in that time, though I knew he’d stopped by from the word of the elven healer.  I’d gotten to know the slave in the past few days, he was quite polite, even friendly, though clearly well aware of his station relative to my own.  They believed that I was indeed the son of an archon, or at least he did.  My host seemed to as well because, finding me, standing, albeit shakily, he nodded and greeted me, “Lord Qyvetiq Lucian, you’re finally awake again.  Are you feeling better?”  Now that I was somewhat recovered, he looked even more hauntingly familiar and the stubbornly elusive recognition nagged my thoughts.  How did I know him?  Who did he remind me of?  

I nodded.  “For the most part.  Thank you, again.”  I took a step and had to be caught by the healer as a wave of nauseating vertigo washed over me.  “Forgive me, I still feel somewhat ill.”  

“You had mentioned friends of yours.  Would you like me to contact anyone for you?”

My stomach growled, in hunger not in sickness, and I ignored it.  I realized that he’d probably assumed that my request to warn my friends had been a product of delusion, or else he’d returned to ask who to contact and found me asleep.  “Yes, if you would be so kind.”  I paused, taking another few steps and leaning carefully against the wall to avoid falling over.  

The magister gripped my arm to help me, waving the healer off to brew more medicinal tea.  “I was about to eat a rather informal dinner.  If you feel up to joining me, perhaps we can discuss this while we eat?”  He helped me though the door and along a short, opulently furnished hallway to a private study.  The meticulously organized books and papers suggested a very private, very organized man, probably ambitious.  A grand window behind the desk presented a view of the achingly familiar cliffs and oceanic expanse.  There were only two chairs, downright majestic high-backed constructions of wood and leather, carved with dramatic angles and draconic imagery.  Very Tevinter.  I sat down in one as a cluster of servants served a fine, but small dinner.  I was too hungry not to eat, even though I was afraid that eating might make me feel sicker.  It was good.  I hoped I managed to eat like in a manner that suited my station a bit more than my usual ravenous gormandizing.  

When I was finished eating, he paused his own meal to gesture to a servant.  “Now.  Who was it that you would like to contact?”

“The Inquisition.”  I had planned to elaborate, but stopped there, noticing the surprise plain on his face.  

“You are a member of the Inquisition?”

He hadn’t introduced himself a second time, but now he no longer needed to, the resemblance was self evident.  “And you’re Magister Halward Pavus, Dorian’s father.”

I felt a surge of acrimony in my gut that was almost accompanied with bile.  This man had saved my life?  The man who had almost destroyed the man I loved, his own son, in fear of a scandal?  I owed my life to this...abomination?!

He frowned, but there was less hate in his voice than I had expected.  Somehow my expression must have hidden my fury, and believe me that was not intentional.  “You know my son?”  He sounded sincerely penitent and he had no right to be.  But I had no right to kill him, and I supposed it crossed a line even to hate the man given all he had already done for me.  I felt a burning desire to lash out, attack him and no doubt strike him down and only the knowledge that Dorian would never forgive me stayed my hate.  I shut my eyes, willing the rage to subside, or at least to lay dormant until I could leave, and I would certainly be leaving tonight, knowing what I knew.  

“Yes.”

Now he heard my emotion.  He frowned.  “So he told you.  I—”

“There is no excuse for what you attempted!”  I stood, standing unaided through sheer determination.  I started to storm out, but reason gave me pause.  “He is still in danger.  Warn the Inquisition, if you can.  If you still care about him.  ...thank you, for saving my life.”  He started to say something more and I stormed out, not even pausing long enough to hear the tone of his voice.  I rarely walked fast, but I was fit, and my legs were very long.  Even dizzy and feeling quite faint and ill, I far outstripped the pace of the flustered magister and the servants were much too startled to halt me.  

At least until I collapsed on the road south three hours later.  


	35. Confrontation in the Frostbacks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only two more chapters to go! (36 and the Epilogue) Hopefully I can finish this tomorrow, but it'll probably take until later in the week, given how well I've stuck with my previous self-set deadlines on this story...

I groaned before I opened my eyes.  I could feel that I was in a carriage and the motion was enough to make me queasy even if the worst of my nausea had finally abated.  I felt more exhausted than ever and would have gone back to sleep if a voice hadn’t interrupted my dawning awareness.  

“It was very foolish of you to rush off like that.”

The magister had found me again.  I sighed and scowled at him.  The carriage was clearly his, it was much too exquisite to be hired.  The seats were deep blue velvet and the walls carved mahogany.  The metal fixtures were gold bedecked with jewels.  I had never seen the man look relaxed and was beginning to think that his only possible mood was serious with subtle variations.  

“I suppose I should thank you again, shouldn’t I?”

“I suppose you should.”

I sighed again.  “Thank you.”  He’d brought the elf and gestured for him to serve me more medicinal tea.  I suspect the reasoning now was less hospitality and more the preservation of his upholstery, given how queasy I probably looked.  The healing elf sat cross-legged on the floor between us as he served the tea.  There was a cushion.  It wasn’t inhumane, it was only that allowing him to share a bench with either of us would have been improper given our status and neither the magister nor myself wished to share with one another.  I drank the tea and thanked both the magister and the slave, which was so nearly an insult that the elf blanched.  

After a moment of tense silence, the magister summarized, “You allowed me no time to explain.  I cannot allow you to travel in your condition, even if my son truly is in danger, and as you clearly insist on making this journey regardless of the risk to yourself, I cannot in good conscience allow you this suicide.”

“I’ve lived through worse.”  I almost snarled the words and then berated myself.  “Sorry.  Thank you, again.”

He seemed just as torn as I was.  I found it difficult to believe that he honestly regretted what he had tried to do, but likewise I knew that he was bending over backwards to help me and couldn’t find it within myself to be ungrateful.  At the very least, he wanted to help his son and protect him, if my warning was truly warranted, but he also found me insulting if not repellant.  And it was nearly a month to Skyhold from Qarinus.  This was going to be an awkward ride.  

*       *Razikale*       *

I woke in the forest, pleasantly surprised to have even made it back to the surface, even if the spell had left me unconscious.  I’d never reach my body at this rate.  How was it that Lusacan had become so powerful all of a sudden?  Something must have happened with the Inquisition, he had unlocked some secret while there, no doubt from the one that called himself Solas.  I didn’t dare confront that powerful mage.  I needed to coerce my brother into telling me somehow.  What did he care about?  He cared about the mortals.  The Inquisitor and the Tevinter.  They would be easy enough to find.  

*       *Qyvetiq*       *

To my great surprise, I found that tired and ill as I was, I could only maintain a hostile silence for so long.  It had been nearly three weeks riding non-stop and trading our horses at every major town so we could keep a break-neck pace.   By my best estimate, we would reach Skyhold in a matter of days.  I was bored, and I was intrigued by Dorian’s father, mostly because he had saved my life twice over now and I couldn’t align that truth with my perception of the kind of person who would do what he had almost done.  I was curious about him.  

Even though I no longer felt so constantly ravenous that I needed two dozen whole chickens a day, I was still eating much more than usual and now that my nausea had abated, I was keeping it down, but traveling by carriage and too tired to exercise much anyway, I could tell I was gaining weight.  That was probably part of why my back hurt so much.  The healer seemed somehow concerned by that, but he said nothing.  He hardly said anything at all through the whole ride, which I expected, but it added to my boredom.  

To my surprise, the magister broke the silence first.  

“So...how is my son?”

I had been staring out the window, but now I looked over at him.  “Last I saw him, he’s fine, but like I said, my sister’s probably after him as well as the Inquisitor.”  Wait, had I said that?

Halward frowned.  “Your sister is after him specifically?  You never mentioned this.”

“Right.  Sorry, that was...actually a mistake.  My...brother was a good friend of his.  The Inquisitor’s as well.  My sister will be after both of them in order to coerce him.”

He narrowed his eyes.  “This man you call your brother, he is not your brother, is he?”

He thought I was calling him my brother to mask that the man was really my lover, and I could hear the disgust in his voice.  That pissed me off.  I managed not to swear or insult Halward, but I was blunt.  “No.  You are implying that I refer to my lover?  He isn’t my lover, he is the spirit of the Old God Lusacan, who was possessing me for the past seven-hundred years, but who apparently gained the ability to leave my body and wake his own body after the Inquisitor brought us through the Fade.  My sister is possessed by his sister, Razikale, though I hardly expect you to believe any of that, so the crux of the situation is simply that Dorian and the Inquisitor are in danger.  If you just trust that fact, we can get to them in time and hopefully save their lives, but if you don’t and I am right, then they die.  We’re already past the halfway point, why stop now?  And since you asked, my _lover_ is your son.”

My outburst silenced him.  I could see the different emotions clashing on his face: outrage, disgust, loathing, disbelief, hatred, regret, concern, and finally resignation.  

I had some tea as he came to terms with all of that.  The brew had gone a bit cold and out of habit, I tried to heat it up with just a little magic.  To my surprise, sparks of electricity, not flame blossomed from my palm.  I paused and stared.  That had never happened before.  

The magister frowned at me.  I drank the tea anyway, trying to pretend I had meant to do that.  I wasn’t about to act incompetent around this man.  

“Does that happen often?”

I shook my head.  “It never happened before.”

He paused and eventually remarked, “Magic sometimes reacts strangely when one is ill.”  I got the sense that he wanted to be friendly with me.  Even if we hadn’t spoken much, three weeks stuck in a carriage with the man meant I had gotten to know him.  I strongly suspected that he wanted to be friends with me in some misguided and possibly subconscious effort to reconcile with Dorian in effigy.  Or at least he felt like somehow being on good terms with me would let him keep some connection to Dorian.  I wasn’t sure Dorian would have wanted any connection to the man after what he did, even if he was his father, but then again, I had never truly hated my own father.  

When we had both been silent for almost fifteen minutes, he tried to lighten the mood.  I guess he’d been thinking about Dorian, because he remarked, “I remember my wife could cast nothing but fire spells while she was pregnant with Dorian.  ...The woman nearly burned the house down...”

I stared at him, pondering that.  It wasn’t exactly a secret that pregnant mages generally had trouble with spells doing unexpected things like that.  Was it possible...?  The magister looked at me and sighed, misinterpreting my stare.  “I apologize, I did not mean to remind you of Archon Lucian.”  

“You didn’t.”  My body had changed when I had entered the Fade.  Perhaps it _was_ possible.  

The magister frowned when I said that.  “What are you thinking about?  Surely it’s impossible to think—”

The elf, whose guilty expression neither of us had noticed, bowed until his forehead brushed the floor and exclaimed, “I’m sorry!  I thought you already knew you were pregnant, I never meant—”

Halward stared at him so incredulously that I thought he might actually faint.  “ _WHAT??!_ ”

The healer flinched and looked up but didn’t meet his gaze.  “Deepest apologies, I thought you realized—”

“How is this _possible_?!”

I opened my mouth, hoping to word this as gently as possible, but the elf answered first.  “He’s a hermaphrodite.”

Silence descended.  I’d heard it said that emotion could be so thick that one could cut it with a knife, but I think this amount of awkward required something more akin to a greatsword.  

The magister glanced between me and the elf, clearly torn between shocked abhorrence and something that might have been joy.  “What?  How...?  ...what?”

I opened my mouth to explain.  Finding no words to do so, I shut it again.  

A draconic shriek rent the air and the carriage jerked and halted to the panicked cries of our horses.  I had never been happier about a battle.  

*       *Bryce*       *

We’d heard back from Alistair around the time we’d managed to arrange passage to Tevinter.  He was up north, sorting something out with the exiled Wardens, it seemed, not in Tevinter, but sort of on the way.  Dorian and I had opted to head up there to meet him and probably continue on to Tevinter from there without the rest of the Inquisition.  This was a personal matter, and besides, everyone had stuff to do for the Inquisition, and I was trying to keep it quiet that Qy was pregnant.  When we found Qy, that was going to come up in conversation.  I’d rather not have an audience for that reunion.  If we went to stop this other Old God, then we’d contact the Inquisition.  We didn’t expect much danger on the way to meet Alistair, at least no more than usual for the Frostbacks.  

We’d asked Leliana if she’d ever noticed Qy’s sister of if she could find anything out about the possessed woman.  Working off Cole’s vague description, she found agents who remembered seeing the woman, but could discover nothing beyond that.  Most people had never even noticed her.  

Dorian and I camped in the mountains almost a full day out from Skyhold.  We’d left a bit later than we’d intended, having been mildly hung-over from the previous night.  We hadn’t slept together (thank the Maker) but we’d still decided it was best not to have much alcohol with us on this trek, just in case.  The thing was, that left us decidedly awkward with one another.  I could tell that he wasn’t sure what to make of me now, given how nice I’d been since our fight and I wasn’t sure how to treat him.  I was still attracted to him, and he was still infuriating in so many ways, not that anything would come of either emotion now, or rather not that it should.  I wouldn’t let anything come of either emotion.  

Both of us had enough on our mind that we didn’t say much.  I kept wondering if I actually might be the father of Qy’s child, but Dorian seemed far more likely and I think he knew that.  He looked really distracted.  I hoped that once we found Qy he’d calm down.  I think part of it was worry.  I trusted Qy, personally.  The world could have ended and that horned or even un-horned bastard would still be standing, acting all casual as if nothing had happened.  

We were eating dinner before turning in for the night.  The mountain air was freezing and our fire was the only real light aside from the soft white of the snow and low-hanging clouds.  It looked like it was going to snow again and I hoped it wouldn’t.  The last thing we needed was a blizzard.  Dorian prodded the fire with a stick as he finished his meal.  From the blank way he stared at the flames, I knew he was lost in thought.  Scarfing down the last of my supper, I stood, intending to go into my tent to sleep.  I froze mid-step as I realized that a woman was standing beside me.  Dorian looked up, sitting perfectly still as if she was a dangerous wild animal.  

“Hello.  Where did you come from?”

The woman ignored him completely, watching me.  She stood in the snow, draped in a white silk robe much too thin for the cold, her long silver hair fluttering behind her like a trail of smoke.  The snow turned to fog beneath her bare feet, flowing lazily down off the rocks along the trail of her footsteps.  I saw a set of pink-tinged white wings folded on her back, nearly identical to Qyvetiq’s.  I found myself locked in place by her crimson gaze and didn’t realize there was real magic to blame.  “Inquisitor Bryce Trevallyn, is it not?  Do you even remember the last time we met?  I do not expect that you would...”

Dorian stood and I could hear the anger in his voice even stronger than the fear.  “She’s using blood magic, Bryce...”  

Again, the woman ignored him.  “Somehow my brother has full access to his powers.  Tell me how that happened, Bryce.”  I wasn’t really sure myself, but I had theories.  I felt those theories being drawn to the surface, felt my lips starting to put them into words.  I fought it.  

For several seconds I stood there, silently struggling.  I still couldn’t move my body and I refused to speak.  I saw Dorian out of the corner of my eye, staff in hand, pacing like a caged animal because he feared what might happen if he interrupted her effect on me.  

Her eyes narrowed, the only warning I got that her patience had run out before she delved into my mind.  I had never felt it when Qy or Cole accessed my thoughts, but I felt her in my consciousness, her thoughts stabbing and digging about like a frozen blade.  She found what she wanted easily as I nearly screamed.  

“Ah.  You took him into the Fade, allowing him to possess his host more properly, of course.  You _will_ do the same for me.”  

As much to my surprise as to her own, I broke her control enough to shake my head just a little.  Again, her eyes narrowed very slightly.  She tilted her head, gesturing with the lethal grace of a cobra.  She waved a hand towards Dorian and I saw his body lock in place.  “If you refuse, I will kill him.  If his life does not matter to you, I will kill you as well and enter the Fade the same way as the magisters of old.  I will sacrifice a city for the power, I will sacrifice all of Thedas if need be.  The choice is yours.”

My thoughts went to the Anchor still on my palm.  Maybe I should just cooperate.  Her plan would probably just kill all three of us anyway, right?  What was left to lose?  Or was that the blood magic talking?  I wanted her out of my head, I wanted everyone out of my head.  Why did I constantly have to deal with blood magic and crazy Tevinters and now Old Gods?  Why me?  

The anger bubbled up again and I let it, hoping it might help me break her hold and in a way it did.  With my thoughts on the Anchor, the rage seemed to flow there as well, shooting down my arm.  The mark flashed green, exploding with energy that didn’t harm me but it drew her gaze, breaking her focus for the barest fraction of a second.  That was all I needed.  My other hand, instantly in a fist, swung up to punch her, cracking audibly against her jaw and knocking her backwards.  

Dorian blasted a stream of electricity through Razikale as I scrambled to draw my sword.  My shield was by the tent, well out of reach right now.  I’d have to do without it.  Hardly fazed by the bolt, Razikale regained her footing and glared at me.  Opening her mouth, she loosed an inhuman shriek far more terrifying than Qy’s simply because this possessed-dragon-mage was not on my side.  I’d never actually fought a blood mage before, or at least not one who used the kind of blood magic she did and I found myself absolutely terrified.  We’d lucked out up to now, but I seriously doubted we’d be celebrating after this fight.  

One of her hands rose, clawing the air and tearing a deep gash along the center of my chest, ripping only my body and leaving my armor blood-soaked but unarmed.  I could feel the bitterly cold mountain air much deeper in my chest than that cold ever should get.  I fell to my knees, dropping my sword and glimpsed Razikale turning towards Dorian before my vision blacked out.  

*       *Qyvetiq*      *

As soon as I left the carriage, I saw the camp and the battle ahead, Bryce on the ground, bleeding badly, and Dorian, terrified, but holding his ground as he faced a horribly familiar pale woman, her pink-tinged wings spread over the snow.  As I watched, she began to gesture towards him, taking her time now, seeking to bind him rather than kill him.  I saw his body freeze in place as the spell started to take hold.  I charged.  I think it must have been purely adrenaline that gave me the energy, or fueled my magic to such great effect.  I was unarmed.  Vesper lay on a rack in the carriage, forgotten.  

I grabbed at her wing, trying to catch it and shatter the bones, trapping her until it could be healed.  She heard me.  Razikale ducked and spun, wings drawing back in a hurricane of wind and snow.  A flap shot her backwards into the air, keeping distance between us, but distance hardly mattered.  Unarmed, my fist could barely have harmed her, but with the punch came an unintended burst of flame that exploded outward, sublimating the snow stirred up my her brief flight and rushing outward, igniting the tents and scorching Razikale so badly that she paused, panting, to heal the burns.  

Released from her spell, Dorian stumbled, regained his footing and rushed to my side.  

“Qy!  Are you alright?”

I smiled at him and only the urgency of the situation kept me from hugging him.  “I’m fine.  Are you?”  

“Never better.  Your sister is such a charming woman.”

I snorted, “Your father’s delightful as well.”  He shot me a frown that told me he hadn’t noticed the carriage or the fact that I was not alone.  Halward stood some distance back, watching in a daze.  He had a lot to come to terms with and I didn’t expect him to do so in time to help us in this fight.  A glance down told me that Bryce would live, provided Razikale did not strike him again.  She had to be dealt with.  

Razikale met my gaze.  

“Dear brother...”  

“Sister...”

The hate in her gaze softened to a confused frown.  “Qyvetiq.  You...are not possessed any more...”  The hate surged back like a tsunami and she flared her wings behind her, ready to attack again, “Where has my brother gone?”

“To awaken his body, and he’ll do so before you can stop him.  He’ll stop you, Razikale.”  I had absolute faith in that.  This was Lusacan, after all, I owed my life to him.  

She narrowed her eyes and I expected her to fly away, to waste no time in seeking out her brother rather than continuing to attack us.  I was wrong.  

Razikale shrieked and shot a wave of flame our way.  I was completely unprepared to counter it.  Dorian tried.  He waved his staff but his magic was simply no match for hers, I suspect that my own only came close because of the time I’d spent as Lusacan’s vessel.  My initial strike had been as much a bluff as a simple need to defend Dorian, even if that should cost me my life.  The two of us together could not match her.  I braced myself as the wall of fire rushed towards us.  

It never made contact.  The shimmering glow of a barrier sprang into existence just ahead of me and Dorian, shielding Bryce as well and parting the flames around us.  Dorian stared at it, clearly disbelieving its existence before turning around to discover its origin.  

“Father?!”

Halward stood just behind us, staff in hand, his eyes fixed on Razikale, who had taken flight to ready another spell.  “Focus, Dorian!”  I swear my beloved mage almost disregarded the battle completely to give his father a piece of his mind, but luckily self-preservation won out.  

The hovering Old God launched another fireball our way, but this time the three of us working together deflected it, shooting the searing orb back and grazing her wing.  She shrieked in outrage, but fled, no doubt seeking to stop or kill Lusacan before he reclaimed his body and power.  I could only let her go.  

Dorian eyed his father venomously.  “You!  What are you doing here?  Wasn’t it clear enough last time that—!”

“Dorian, he just saved both our lives, he saved me twice before and he’s the only reason I got down here this quickly.”  I knelt to check on Bryce.  I had dealt with more than enough fights between families, I guess I just wanted them to make peace.  Even after what Dorian’s father had done, they cared for each other.  If that was enough for them to at least tolerate each other, I wanted them to do so as quickly as possible.  Even if it wasn’t, I’d rather they just be quiet for now.  With the battle over, my headache and exhaustion had returned in full force.  I really just wanted to sleep, probably for a few days, but I had to be sure everyone was okay and then we had to set out to stop Razikale and save Lusacan, or at least do our best to help him.  We were hardly the kind of force that could stand against a living Old God in battle.  

Bryce was alive, but unconscious, and badly wounded.  Luckily the cold had frozen the blood and stopped the bleeding, but that was a temporary fix.  “Hey, could you get the elf?  He needs a healer.”  Halward nodded and went to do so, probably grateful for something to distract from the uncomfortable looks he and Dorian had been exchanging.  

With his father at least momentarily gone, Dorian knelt beside me.  “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“I’ll live.  We need to help Lusacan.  I’m just glad you’re safe.”

He laughed wryly.  “Me?  You were the one kidnapped and dragged across the whole of Thedas.  Cole told us that...  Are you...?”  He hesitated, reluctant to say whatever he was asking.  He seemed to hope that I would figure it out and answer without him needing to clarify.  He overestimated my acumen.  

“...am I what?”

He paced a moment, bit his lip, and blurted out, his voice just above a whisper, “Are you pregnant?”

Now it was my turn to hesitate.  I shrugged.  “I...I don’t know.  I didn’t think it was possible, but...I’m starting to wonder...”  I frowned and glanced down.  I had definitely gotten a little bit of a belly, I could tell because I was normally very lean, but with my loose robes, it wasn’t _that_ obvious...  “Wait...what made you think that?”

“Cole told us.  You know, in his usual way of dropping monumental statements as if he were commenting on the weather.”

I stood and considered that.  “Well, coming from Cole, it’s probably true...”

“My thoughts exactly.”  He stood as well and moved a bit closer to me.  “...so you didn’t know until now?”

I shook my head.  “I only started suspecting about ten minutes ago.”  

He stared and probably would have said something more, but the healer arrived to treat Bryce and Halward returned with him.  The magister stood a short distance away from us, looking as if he might speak.  His expression could have shown his usual pride or disgust, the distinctions eluded me.  After a few moments, he asked softly, “So...you were possessed by the Old God Lusacan?”


	36. Last of the Old Gods

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully the epilogue will be finished and uploaded tonight or tomorrow...

Time was not on our side.  We set out from the ashes of that camp, traveling west to the place where Dorian had seen Lusacan’s body and left it buried in the canyon.  We took Bryce with us and explained everything to Halward as we rode.  The ride was hardly comfortable, but after the first few days things became less awkward.  Dorian and his father settled into a quiet tolerance of one another while Bryce almost seemed close to Dorian and treated his father with diplomatic tolerance.  After the long ride south, I hardly expected Halward’s attitude towards me to change, but it did.  Whether because he knew I was his son’s lover or because he either knew or suspected that I carried his grandchild, the magister became downright amicable towards me.  Whatever his disgust at my sexuality, he tried quite miraculously to hide it.  By the time we reached the Western Approach, we were nearly friends.  

And I was more exhausted than ever.  I had never expected Dorian to be particularly at ease with the pregnancy, especially given the dangerous circumstances we found ourselves in— he tried to convince me to go back to Skyhold and gave up after the third time I flatly refused.  He understood, I guess, considering he had done much the same when he’d joined the Inquisition, but I could tell it only added to his concern.  Bryce managed to be almost as tense, jumping even more than the elf whenever I seemed in pain or uncomfortable.  Maker, I wasn’t even halfway through yet, and the man acted like I was going into labor at every move I made.  Dorian at least had the sense to keep his worry in check with reason.  I have to admit that this helped my relationship with Halward.  Seeing the two younger men acting so nervous managed to bring some humor through his serious demeanor.  In my own amused annoyance with their attentions, we ended up talking about it a great deal, and not just to calm them down.  

He warmed to me, and even seemed more accepting of my relationship to Dorian by the time we arrived.  And I had expected the man to hate me forever.  I wasn’t sure how to handle this newly benevolent magister.  

We reached the canyon just before sunset.  The canyon remained, much shallower now, a long scar in the earth scabbed with boulders and settled dust.  We decided to eat and rest for now, we’d start digging in the morning.  Sitting around the fire, so close to the end of our journey, everyone seemed even more open with each other than we had on the long ride.  

Bryce studied the desert around us and the perfectly still rocks in the canyon.  Nothing was moving.  There was no sign of life here at all aside from the seven of us, counting the two carriage drivers and the elven healer who had never introduced himself.  The Inquisitor turned to look at me.  “Lusacan hasn’t made it out here yet?”

I shook my head.  Over the past weeks I’d found that I could still sense him, albeit very distantly.  He was no longer directly connected to me, but I could feel his mind if I tried hard enough.  Outside of me, he could travel very quickly as a spirit, I knew he had reached this area, but he’d learned that he needed a body to wake his own, and he’d had some kind of problem with that.  I theorized based off of what I had felt from him.  “He was here already, I think, but he couldn’t wake his body while he lacked physical form.  I think he tried to do what Cole did and failed; he went to find something to possess temporarily but...it seems as though he had problems with that.”

Bryce gestured to the barren expanse around us.  “Well, there doesn’t exactly seem to be much alive out here...”

I shook my head.  “There is more here than meets the eye, I know that much, I think it’s something else.”

Halward frowned.  “I would not expect the spirit of an Old God to be able to possess a body so easily, the very fact that you survived possession by him seems...remarkable.”

I nodded.  “My case was rare.  My father conducted experiments to study possession, he carefully created the ideal environment for my possession, I suspect before I was born.  He did this to over a hundred children although only my sister and myself survived the process.  I believe that this was simply because the two of us became possessed by Old Gods rather than ordinary demons.  The fact that the possession occurred so early-on leads me to believe that our bodies adapted more easily to the Old Gods’ spirits.  Under normal circumstances, I think it would take an extraordinarily powerful creature to contain Lusacan’s soul even briefly.”

Bryce shrugged, not even trying to think that through and the mages stared as they considered it.  Dorian frowned.  “Wait.  If he needs to possess a body to wake his own, and ordinary bodies won’t hold him, are you sure he’ll even be able to find one, or are we just waiting for Razikale?”

I started to answer, but I had been maintaining my link to Lusacan and shuddered as I felt it change.  Instantly Bryce, Dorian, and the elf all stood up.  “I’m fine.  I think Lusacan found a body.”  Their reactions suggested that they thought I meant he was possessing me again, so I clarified.  “He’s north of here, approaching fast.”

“In what?”  

I tried to sense it, keeping my eyes on the northern sky.  He was flying, but not a bird.  The body felt strange, but also natural, like a tight and poorly made glove when one had worn gloves all one’s life.  He could feel it breaking around him, his power sickening it, making it decay.  He felt the animal’s rage inside him, and controlled it.  It was hardly ideal, but it would last long enough for what had to be done.  

I saw the shadow on the horizon, a distant crescent of ebony at first, but growing fast.  “In that.”  

They followed my gaze.  In fear and reflex alone, everyone drew their weapons and the slaves sheltered by the carriage.  The form became clear as Lusacan landed just near enough to be lit by the glow of our campfire.  Enormous wings folded on the thick scales of his back.  Four powerful legs settled his body to the ground, gold claws leaving deep furrows in the stone.  A tail the length of a galleon curled about his paws.  High above us on a towering, tree-trunk neck loomed a face framed in massive horns that arched upwards.  The eyes that gleamed down at us from that face glowed sickly yellow, but showed an intellect far beyond that of an animal.  But the host already showed the effects of his power.  Auburn scales hung loose or shed completely and great swaths of skin had ripped open, leaving crimson streaks to ooze blood in colorful rivulets along the hulking body.  The capillaries visible in the translucent membrane of those enormous wings twitched erratically, far darker than they should be.  He was killing the high dragon.  

Lusacan sat still only long enough to nod to us before standing again, half a dozen great scales falling from his body, and slinking down into the canyon to dig.  

Halward looked at me.  “That is Lusacan?”

I nodded.  “Yes.”

Dorian marveled at it.  “He’s in the body of a high dragon...and it’s dying because of him.  It’s probably best we never know, but I have to wonder how your father ever managed to let him possess _you_ successfully...”

I nodded again.  “We should help him dig.”

“Right.”

The task went quickly.  It turned out that three mages and a high dragon could move a great deal of boulders with remarkable alacrity.  For all his strength, Bryce was rendered practically useless and I think he liked that for a change.  Now he had to rely on us to get the job done.  

I couldn’t sense the darkspawn any more but I wasn’t sure that I had ever been able to.  That had probably been Lusacan, and it made sense.  He was an Old God, the beacon to which the darkspawn were drawn.  Even uncorrupted, he emitted the Calling, that was why I had been surprised when Alistair and the Hero of Ferelden had failed to notice it during the Fifth Blight.  But he seemed relatively calm, at least, and I knew how much darkspawn terrified him.  If he could still sense them, then there must not be any around here.  

Moving aside the last few stones, we uncovered the chamber where Lusacan’s body slept.  Halward swore in ancient Tevene.  Dorian nodded.  “My thoughts exactly.”  Lit by the moonlight, the now-exposed Old God was even larger than the high dragon Lusacan had possessed.  I could tell that he was weakening now, his movement was erratic and his bellows-like lungs whined and fluttered, struggling with every gasping breath.  

We had only cleared the front half of the chamber, leaving the back in shadow, overhung by thousands of tons of stone, what remained of the canyon wall.  From the dark, I heard a muffled cry.  It was not human, but chilled my heart all the same for very different reasons.  “Darkspawn!”

Six eyes locked on me.  None of them had fought darkspawn enough to recognize them by sound.  Lusacan ignored both my shout and the cry.  He focused solely on his body and I got the sense that he was trying to return to it now.  A shriek from above interrupted him.  

The darkspawn sounded muffled, probably blocked from us by a wall of rubble or a closed door.  Nothing shielded us from Razikale, who dropped from the sky and launched a blast of flame our way.  Dorian reacted first.  He shot lightning at her, missing, but dodging the fire as he did so.  Halward threw a barrier around us seconds later.  Neither myself nor Lusacan had ever reacted quickly, but the Old God was even slower now,with his host body failing.  I had Vesper in hand now and used it to blast my sister, slightly disrupting her connection to her body by the way I cast my cold magic.  She swooped to perch atop the boulders we’d moved, wings still spread as she launched a bolt of electricity at Lusacan, who had just started to turn.  The jolt seared his side and wing, burning flesh from his ribs and baring and blackening the fragile bones of his wing.  As I watched the scales fall away, I saw new muscle and skin straining to fill the void and I realized something.  He wasn’t possessing a living high dragon.  The dragon had already died with his spirit inside of it, and his energy made it decay, but he was also healing it.  He was desperately trying to hold his vessel together long enough to return to his own body, but all that effort could only do so much.  And trying to heal his body just to stay alive would leave him vulnerable.  Finally facing her, Lusacan launched a stream of fire from his maw, hitting her squarely.  Razikale, her pale body blackened with burns and soot, ignored her pain to retaliate, blasting her largest fireball yet not at Lusacan, but at the cliff above his body.  I shot lightning her way and turned to protect the others as the rock collapsed above us.  Bryce got clear in seconds, charging straight for the Razikale.  Halward ran but stumbled and Dorian stopped to help him.  Boulders fell around them and one clipped them, pinning Halward’s robes.  I ran to help and me and Dorian, working together, tore him free, but more rocks were still falling.  The whole cliff was coming down.  But if it fell, it would destroy Lusacan’s body and he wasn’t about to let that happen.  I think he wanted to protect us as well.  The shifting, failing corpse of the high dragon leapt over us, standing with one tree-trunk leg on either side of us, rotting, dangling belly scales brushing our heads.  The rocks hit his back and I could hear the bones and muscles straining.  His neck and massive horns sheltered the head of his true body and the rest of it seemed alive and intact beneath the rubble that now encased it.  

I nudged Dorian and his father forward.  “His body is failing, Lusacan can’t hold that rock for long, let’s go!”  We fled the falling rock and emerged from beneath Lusacan’s wide tail, bowing under dozens of tons of rock, in time to see Bryce lunging at Razikale.  She had paused to heal and almost finished when he brought his sword up in a powerful arc.  She threw her wing up to guard, reflexively, and his blade cleaved through the skin and bone to lodge in her back.  She shrieked and staggered, blood pouring from the wound in her side.  Bryce tried and failed to pull his sword free, instead jerking the irate Old God towards himself.  She lost her footing and on the loose rock, they fell down.  Dorian, Halward, and I scrambled, trying to get close enough to hit Razikale without hurting Bryce.  The boulders were tricky terrain.  

Watching Bryce and Razikale roll about, half fighting each other and half trying to regain their footing would have been hilarious if they hadn’t both had lethal intent.  His sword stuck fast in her spine, limiting him to fists and he was completely thrown off by her unintentional disarming and by her absolutely crazed retaliation, clawing at his face with her bare fingers and biting and part of him she could reach.  She must have used too much of her energy healing her burns, she couldn’t use magic against him.  

Or maybe she could.  Razikale opened her mouth, exhaling a stream of flame.  Bryce yelped and pushed her back, scrambling across her ruined wing.  He’d been burned, the straps holding the armor together on his arm had fallen apart, letting the metal drop to the rocks.  His shoulder had been seared so badly that I couldn’t tell what was flesh and what was clothing.  

Razikale dove after him, clawing his chest and lunging to bite his throat.  Even without access to her full power, she could change her teeth and grow her claws.  She drew blood the instant her fangs touched his neck.  

On reflex alone, he lashed out.  I saw the mark flash green although I doubt that Bryce ever really intended to use it.  His palm struck Razikale’s chest and pushed her back, but more than that, it reached into the Fade.  Possessed, but with a living body that belonged to her spirit, the Anchor shredded her like meat on a taffy pull.  The energy poured into it, opened a rift inside of her, and that didn’t end well.  

My sister disintegrated before my eyes.  

Bryce stared and then collapsed, panting with relief.  Halward, Dorian, and I paused, equally out of breath.  We stared at each other.  

What little remained of the cliff behind us collapsed, rumbling to the canyon behind us.  Neither of Lusacan’s bodies remained visible.  Bryce didn’t react, he didn’t seem to notice, but both mages looked over at it.  As the dust settled, Dorian looked up at me.  “Qy?  You can sense him?”  I could her from his tone that he thought the Old God was dead, as Razikale was now.  Her body might corrupt, but I hoped not.  I hoped it would die, still slumbering, deep beneath the surface.  He would shed no tears if Lusacan really was dead.  He thought it was best if the Old Gods stayed “dead.”  I knew the feeling.  It had felt like the first age was coming back ever since I realized that the spirit within me was Lusacan, and it was jarring even if that kind of change felt to me like things were almost going back to normal.  It bothered me that I knew that if Lusacan died, Dorian would be relieved.  The spirit was like my brother, if not closer, but I knew why he felt that way.  

I nodded.  I could sense him.  Even now.  “He’s alive.”  He’d returned to his body.  I could feel him.  

Dorian looked from me to the rubble and back again.  “Under all that?”

I nodded.  Bryce, staggering from blood loss but as remarkably alive as ever, walked towards us.  His gaze drifted over to the boulders across the way and then flicked back to me.  I answered before he had to ask.  “He’s fine.  He’ll find you, if he wants to, and I don’t think we can find him if he doesn’t.”  I was tired.  And sore.  “Can we get some sleep now?”

Dorian stared incredulously.  “You want to sleep?  After _that_?”

I grinned at him.  “We’re all alive, we’re safe, and at least for the time being, we don’t know of any more massively powerful beings trying to become gods and rule the world.  Isn’t this a perfect time to sleep?”

He laughed.  “Qy...you’re incredible.”  He tackled me in a hug and I hugged him back.  

*       *Lusacan*       *

Perched on the boulders across the way, I watched them.  Though I suppose perched was the wrong word, now that my body was human.  


	37. Epilogue

The city of Val Royeux bustled with activity in the crisp Autumn air, the very end of the season.  The very start of a winter that would be mild here, warmed by the water and climate.  The shops of the grand plaza were decorated with ribbon and little purple lanterns.  The festival’s name had changed too many times foe me to count, as had the ways it was celebrated, but I knew it as The Day of Night, an ancient religious celebration.  Through the ages, it had lost all religious connotation and I doubted the modern participants even recalled the origins of the holiday, but I knew one who did.  

I watched Qyvetiq in the square, eating some kind of strange pastry and wearing a mask.  It was a fine mask.  Black hide formed a draconic face framed with long purple and golden feathers.  He wore robes that matched.  How appropriate.  

Everyone in the square wore a mask today and my own resembled Qy’s, a grinning black dragon.  Mine was cheaper.  I didn’t have access to his wealth, at the moment, and I didn’t need it.  He was happy.  He would not see me here and I had not come here to see him.  

It had been five years since the slaying of Razikale.  Bryce, escaping from the Inquisition for the first day in years, sat at a table in the crowded tavern, sipping a tankard of spiced ale.  His own mask was gold, exquisite in value, but a sad face, suiting the state I knew he was in.  I sat beside him.  

I knew as he looked up, eyes finding their way up my simple black tunic, gloved fingers, long black hair, and slender chin.  He saw the resemblance.  He recognized me.  I let him recognize me and smiled.  

So did he.  “Lu—”

“I said I’d be back, didn’t I?”

I think he would have hugged me.  He started to stand, but I put a hand on his shoulder.  “Stay sitting, Bryce.  I’ve heard you’ve been leading the Inquisition.  Diplomatic meetings, administration, bureaucracy, and everyone’s still looking to you as a savior, a role model.  You can hardly get a moment to yourself.  At least things finally settled down.”  

He sighed.  “It’s hell.”

“You want to leave it?”

He stared.  “With you?  Where have you been all this time?”

“I had things to take care of.  Sisters whose bodies should never see the light of day.  Old Warden friends to track down in order to find said sisters.  I checked up on another old friend too.”  I paused, studying him.  “And yes.  With me.  Care to join me, Bryce?”

He paused, nodded.  “Yes.  Take me anywhere.”

An Orlesian woman gasped somewhere behind us and we both turned to look, expecting the same thing.  I chuckled.  “Dorian’s still causing a stir, as always.”

The mage had returned to Qy’s side and kissed him, carrying an owl-shaped paper lantern in one hand and a masked and sleeping four-year old daughter in the other.  A second girl, the same age but taller skipped about by Qy’s feet, her long hair as dark as both her fathers’.  Felicity and Revas, the latter named after the elven word for “freedom.”  They’d already shown signs of magic and both girls would no doubt grow to be great mages in their own right.  

“Of course he is,” Bryce chuckled, watching the family.  “Tevinter’s newly appointed first openly homosexual magister and his family?  That’d turn heads anywhere.”

“ _Dorian_ would turn heads anywhere just by being himself.  So would Qy.  I’m sure their daughters will turn out the same way.”  

“Have you met them yet?”

I shook my head.  “Let them grow up first.  They don’t need to know there’s still one old god about.”  I stood, “We’ve both done enough for this old world.  Wouldn’t you agree?”  He smiled, nodded, and followed me.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finally done! Yay! *collapses on the keyboard*
> 
> My next one will hopefully be better, but I'll probably work on Fallout stuff for a while before jumping back into Dragon Age.


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